


Caught Somewhere In Time

by Its_funnier_in_klingon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1976, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Cursed Object, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst and Smut, Frottage, God is trapped, Homophobic Language, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Post Series, Time Travel, all death is from old age and is not really sad, bartender!Dean, bottom!Dean, human!Cas, kind of, librarian!cas, mechanic!Dean, only original characters die, team switch, time travel is very hard to describe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24396799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_funnier_in_klingon/pseuds/Its_funnier_in_klingon
Summary: With God trapped, and Jack and Amara in Heaven, the world is pretty okay for the time being. A newly-human Cas, Dean, Eileen, and Sam now reside in the bunker, taking on cases here and there. When Dean and Cas stumble across a cursed pocket watch, they find themselves transported to 1976. Together, they must try to find a way to get back to the present, or hope that Sam can find a way to bring them back. Along with finding their footing while making a life for themselves in Colorado, 1976, Dean and Cas must also find their footing with the feelings coming to fruition between them.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 35
Kudos: 130
Collections: BottomDeanBigBang2020





	1. Chapter 1: The [Guys] Who Leapt Through Time

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic is a part of the [Bottom Dean Big Bang](https://bottomdeanbigbang.tumblr.com/) which was SUPER fun and such a great experience!
> 
> My artist for this fic was my awesome new friend, [Vero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BENKA79) ([tumblr](https://verobatto-angelxhunter.tumblr.com/)) I am so grateful to have met her and get some amazing art for this fic. Love you!
> 
> I also want to give a HUGE thank you to my amazing beta reader (and bestie): [Krista](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kris_Kenobi) ([tumblr](https://kris-kenobi.tumblr.com/))  
> She also did a fic for this challenge. Go check it out!
> 
> You can also check out my [tumblr](http://its-funnier-in-klingon.tumblr.com/) too if you wanna! :)
> 
> "Caught Somewhere in Time" - Iron Maiden, 1986

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Girl Who Leapt Through Time" - 2006 movie

God didn’t end the world. Damn did he try, though. With the help of Rowena, Jack (after The Empty spit him back out), Michael, and Amara, the gang was able to track him down. The battle that ensued was one for the books. There were a few moments they thought it was over--for good. Cas was the biggest wildcard. Without the other archangels, it was all hands on deck. God wasn’t expecting Cas to pack any kind of a punch; that’s what destroyed Him. Cas wouldn’t say exactly how he did it, but somehow he channeled every drop of his grace into a few words of Enochian and boom, God was down. This allowed Rowena to cast the spell, locking Him away, the same as He did to Amara all those years ago. Jack wore His mark, the key to God’s eternal cage. Amara and Jack then traveled to Heaven, beginning an attempt to create new angels and restore Heaven to its former glory. Rowena returned to rule in Hell. The damage done to Adam’s body was irreparable, but Michael was merciful, sending his soul to Heaven to see his mother again. Michael pulled a Gabriel, and went on extended vacation to nowhere. This left Sam, Dean, Eileen, and a newly-human Castiel to return to the bunker and have a celebratory drink, and then 20 more. 

That was three weeks ago. Things had been quiet since then. Not even a somewhat ‘odd’ story in the news. So that was how Dean and Cas ended up cataloging _everything_ in the storage room. Cas enjoyed feeling helpful through his arcane knowledge of all things. Dean just wanted to get away from Sam and Eileen making googly-eyes at each other. And hanging out with Cas was something he had missed. The two were going through the box of occult artifacts they had taken from the pawn shop before the whole fiasco with the magic pearl. Dean found a few of what looked like angel-killing bullets scattered around the bottom of one of the boxes and stuffed them in his pocket to put with the rest of their ammunition. 

“Dean, come look at this,” Cas was staring down at a crumpled piece of paper in one of his hands, a rusty, old pocket watch dangling from his other hand.

“If it’s another one of those steamy love letters that you and Sam came across in Charming Acres, I can leave the room so you can have some time to yourself,” Dean smirked.

“No, Dean, it’s a letter that just says ‘Failed attempt. Do NOT use,’” Cas rolled his eyes. “It was wrapped around this pocket watch.

Dean walked over to stand beside Cas, placing a hand on his shoulder and grabbed the watch, Cas’ grip still on the chain. The watch had a rusted, bronze casing with roman numerals, among other symbols he couldn’t decipher, along the edges. It seemed to be broken, however, because the latch seemed to be jammed, and the thing wouldn’t open. Dean turned the watch over in his hands. 

“Wait, hang on. What’s that?” 

“What’s what?” Cas asked.

“That. There around the rim,” Dean pointed to a bunch of tiny symbols pasted along the back ring of the watch.

“It looks like it's written in blood.” Cas pulled the watch closer to his face to examine it before dragging the pad of his forefinger against the symbols. 

“Definitely blood,” Dean replied after tapping his finger to Cas’.

Somehow the blood was still wet and came off onto their fingers. The men stared in confusion.

Before they could concern themselves with the slick blood, they were suddenly standing outside the bunker, holding no watch, and instead grasping on to each others’ hand. 

“Okay… weird…” Dean said, looking around himself. 

“Uh, yeah,” Cas replied, looking equally confused. 

The two of them walked towards the door to the bunker to try to make any kind of sense of what was going on. However, the door to the bunker wouldn’t open. Dean banged on the door.

“Sam. Open up,” Dean shouted. 

“Dean, something seems different.” 

“What the hell do you mean ‘different,’” Dean turned to face his friend. 

“The land… seems different…” Cas explained, his nose scrunching up in the cute way that it did when he was confused. 

“Okay, well the land doesn’t really concern me right now; what concerns me is how the hell did we get zapped outside the bunker, and why the hell can’t we get back inside?”

“Dean, we’re gonna figure this out; don’t worry. Why don’t you give Sam a call.” 

“Right, yeah,” Dean said softly. “What the hell?”

“What is it?” Cas questioned. 

“No signal,” Dean sighed.

“Me neither.”

“Great. And we can’t get into the garage either, so no car,” Dean huffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Guess we’re footin’ it to town,” 

Dean began stomping away in the direction towards town, and Cas followed. 

The two of them walked in mostly silence. Castiel knew better than to attempt any lighthearted conversation while Dean was pissy like this. 

They reached town in just over an hour. Except, the town looked different. The bright “OPEN” signs they were used to seeing were all gone. Dean’s favorite liquor store was a barber shop. The only thing that looked just about the same was the grocery store, if not a little newer-looking, so that’s where they headed. Dean stopped outside the door, noticing a newspaper stand. He raised one to his face, slowly. 

“‘ _Democrat Jimmy Carter defeats Republican Gerald Ford in 48th quadrennial presidential election.’_ You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.” Dean glanced at the buildings around him. “We got zapped to 1976.”

Cas looked closer at the top of the newspaper. “November 10th, to be exact; same as before, only 44 years earlier.” He then took an exasperated breath. 

“What is it?” Dean asked. 

“The watch. The bloody symbols,” Cas sighed. “Dean, that watch was said to be a failed attempt. I’m not sure how, but some kind of spell must have been put on it and sent us back here when we touched it.” 

“Well, great,” Dean huffed. “We don’t have any way of getting a hold of that watch, and we don’t even know when the spell was put on it.”

“Maybe if we could find a way into the bunker, we could research the spell; I remember what the symbols looked like,” Cas said. 

“Only problem with that is that we have absolutely no way of getting into the bunker. It’s abandoned these days. And we have no way of getting the key because my grandfather disappeared with it in 1958 until he showed up in 2013 and gave it to us.” Dean rubbed a hand over his face. 

“Could we try mailing Sam a message, or ourselves for that matter, to be delivered to us in the future like when Samuel Colt sent Sam the phoenix ashes from 1861?” Cas pondered.

“That might work if we weren’t smack dab in the middle of the Cold War,” Dean sighed. “No mail was safe, and if anything looked suspicious, it would be checked. My guess is that a letter dated to be delivered in 2020 would look more than a little suspicious.”

They both stood for a moment, wondering how the hell they were going to get out of this one.

“But,” Dean began, “I might be able to do something to get Sam’s attention like I did when I was stuck in 1944. I carved Sam’s name in the baseboard of the room I knew Sam would be in and stuck a letter behind it. We need to get back to the bunker.”

* * *

Once the two of them had trudged back to the bunker, the sun was beginning to set. Dean couldn’t manage any of the bricks around the door to budge, so he resorted to using his knife to carve into the concrete outside the brick. 

45 minutes later, and Dean tagging Cas in twice, a distinct ‘ _D+C STUCK 1976,_ ’ was etched into the concrete by the door. 

“Guess that’s all we can do for now,” Dean sighed, looking down. 

“Dean, we’re gonna get back; it’s gonna be alright.”

“I know that, it’s just…” Dean started.

“What?” Cas asked, concerned, he placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“It would be so easy to catch a bus to Lawrence…” 

“Dean,” Cas drew in a breath, “interfering in your parents’ lives may completely change the future. Your mother is happy and in Heaven with your father.”

“I know, I know, I just can’t be here and _not_ consider it,” Dean gave Cas a weak smile that Cas returned.

“What now?” Cas asked.

“Well, we can’t stay here. We’re too close to my parents. How much cash you got?” 

Between the two of them they had just over $400 in cash; not too bad for the 70s.

“We’re gonna have to get some credit cards and licenses. I know a guy in Burlington, Colorado who _supposedly_ has been in the family business of forgery like that. Same shop all these years, he’s said; let’s hope he ain’t lyin,” Dean smirked.

“And we just have to hope that Sam finds our message and figures out a way to get us back,” Cas said.

“I’m sure he will. But who knows how long it might take for him to get us back. We better be prepared to spend a little time here. So, first stop: Colorado.”

* * *

A bus to Burlington would take them three and a half hours.

“We’re definitely gonna need to update the wardrobe a bit if we plan on blending in at all,” Dean said. “We’ll pick some stuff up while our guy works on our cards in the morning.”

“Dean, are you sure this man will be able to get us what we need?”

“We better hope so, or we’re screwed,” Dean said. “We’ll find out in the morning.” 

It was almost midnight when they reached Burlington. With all the chaos of the day, they realized they had yet to eat since they were in 2020. Dean led Cas inside a 24-hour diner near the bus stop. They slid into a booth across from each other. With it being so late, they had to wait a mere seconds before a young woman approached them to take their order. 

“What’ll you fellas have this evening?”

“Water and a cheeseburger will do just fine, thanks,” Dean shot her a charming smile. He meant nothing by it. She was way too young for him anyways, or too old for him; this time travel logic was screwing with his head a bit.

“Same for me. Thank you,” Cas replied, curtly. 

“Comin’ right up,” The waitress replied. 

The diner was quiet. The only other people in the place looked like a young couple, maybe 16, cuddled up in a booth near the window, sharing a milkshake. Dean smirked, quickly glancing at Cas, but looking away before their eyes could meet. They were both hungry and eager to find a place to sleep, so they wasted no time scarfing down their burgers before heading out to find a room for the night.

The men found a motel within a 20 minute walk from the antique-shop that their guy should be at. The man behind the counter didn’t pay them any mind when two oddly-dressed men asked for a room. They were able to get a double-queen room for $13. Good thing, too. Their forged papers weren’t likely to come cheap. 

Cas let Dean shower first. He let the hot spray cascade down his body and the tension slowly bleed out of his shoulders. The shower did little to ease him. _Did Sam even know they were missing? What if Sam touched the spell? Hopefully he’d be smarter than they were._ The water had gone cold by the time Dean was brought back from his thoughts. Hopefully Cas wouldn’t be too upset. Dean quickly dried himself off and threw back on his shirt and boxers before stepping out of the bathroom. Turns out he wouldn’t have to worry about using up all the hot water; Cas was already asleep on top of the covers. Dean pulled the extra blanket from the closet and carefully draped it over Cas’ sleeping form. He then padded over to the other bed and turned off the light, hoping he’d wake snuggled up in his familiar memory foam mattress.

* * *

He did, in fact, _not_ wake up on his memory foam mattress. Instead, he woke to scratchy blankets, a low hum of the heater, and rain tapping against the window. 

Dean rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked over to see Cas still conked out in the bed next to him. At least they had each other. 

Dean threw on his pants and scrawled a quick note to Cas letting him know he’d be back soon with breakfast. He made his way to the mini mart down the street where he grabbed them some deodorant and dental supplies before heading over to the Burger King across from their motel. It was just before 8 a.m. so he was able to avoid the rush of 9-5ers. 

He was glad he had on some layers when they got zapped over here because the chill of the November morning rain wasn’t too bad over his heavy canvas. When Dean entered their motel, Cas was out of bed and in the shower. They didn’t have anything to pack up, so Dean set out their breakfast and waited for Cas. For a few more bucks, they could've gotten a room with a color TV.

Cas emerged from the bathroom shortly after with his hair a mess and dripping everywhere. Dean looked away.

“Ran out to get us some food, then I figure we can go get our identities,” Dean said, gesturing to the breakfast. 

“Thank you,” Cas replied with a nod, and sat down across from Dean.

Cas dove in on his sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit, while munching on hash browns between bites of the sandwich. Who knew when they’d grab food again, so along with a sandwich and hash browns each, he added in two breakfast burritos. And, of course, two large coffees. 

The two headed out shortly after 9 over to Ralph’s Antiques: a quaint, unnoticeable, little shop. The shop was empty, save the owner sitting behind the desk reading a magazine. 

“You must be Ralph,” Dean smiled.

“Who’s askin’?” 

“Buddy of mine told me if I was in need of some special items that you were the guy to look for,” Dean said.

“I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about, mister. I think you’ve got the wrong guy.” 

“You know, pal, my friend was pretty certain you were the _right_ guy,” Dean hummed while sliding a 50 dollar bill over to the man whose eyebrows shot to his hairline. 

“What _special_ items you lookin’ for?”

Dean shot Cas a celebratory smirk.

“Need a couple of birth certificates, identification, and if you can swing it, which I’ve heard you can, a credit card.”

Ralph took a hesitant look around the room before sighing, “50 bucks ain’t gonna cover all that, buddy.”

“There’s more where that came from,” Dean smiled, patting his pocket. 

“S’gonna cost ya $250 for all that.”

“Make it $225, and you’ve got a deal,” Dean said, winking at Cas who rolled his eyes. 

“I can swing that. Let’s get you boys back here for your photoshoot,” the man said. “After that, it’s gonna take about an hour or so.”

“Awesome; say cheese,” Dean grinned at Cas. 

Ralph raised his eyebrows at Dean’s odd word choice, but didn’t comment, just led them to the back room for ID photos. 

Dean gave Ralph half the money in advance, and he would get the rest when he was finished. The two spent the next hour at the Kmart down the street. The first priority was to find a thermal coat for Cas, as he did _not_ get zapped here in layers. They were able to find a good amount of necessities for the time being. Dean got a heavier coat as well; who knows how long they would be here; they may end up spending the winter in Colorado, and canvas was not going to cut it. T-shirts and boxers were immediately second on the list of priorities. For now they assumed they should be good by just sharing a duffle. 

Once successfully grabbing a week’s worth of everyday clothes, and a pair of fuzzy socks with bees on them for Cas, the two headed back to the antique shop. 

Ralph proved well on his reputation. Dean and Cas were now “Dean McKagan” and “Cas Rose” (Guns ‘n Roses wouldn’t get big ‘til ‘85, anyway). The men spent almost the rest of their cash on bus tickets heading West to Breckenridge. Ralph had recommended Breckenridge for its small-town feeling with great views, as well as their average accepting-ness regarding “alternative lifestyles,” whatever that meant. 

The two rolled into town just after noon where they stopped at Rosie’s Diner for lunch. Ralph hadn’t been lying about the views in Breckenridge; a grand mountain range surrounded the town. With a single bite of his burger, Dean knew he could get used to this place so long as the diner became a regular stop. Looked like they probably would be hanging there for a while, too, if things worked out with the advertisement they saw in the papers: a 900 square foot, furnished apartment, above a bar down the road on Main St. 

The bar, which they headed over to after lunch, was a western themed place called, The Colt Lightning Counter, and completely dedicated to, the one and only, Doc Holliday. Dean’s entire attitude shifted when they stepped foot into the bar. Cas sighed, sending Dean a knowing look, but couldn’t keep the small smile from forming on his face. Horseshoes and saddles and handguns concealed the walls. A red light shone on the bar, while the dining tables were draped in darkness, and each table had a dim lantern in the middle. A man, probably in his late 50s, wearing a vest and cowboy boots approached Dean and Cas.

“Howdy fellas. What can I do for you?”

“We just moved here from Kansas and saw the ad for the apartment in the papers. We were hoping to have a look around,” Dean said.

The man glanced between the two of them.

“You boys know it’s only got one bedroom, right?” He paused before throwing his hands up defensively, “which is completely fine, ya know; I don’t ask questions. Um, there is also a couch if you _are_ lookin’ for two sleepin spaces.”

“Uh, yeah, the couch will be fine.” Dean blushed, glancing at Cas who simply looked confused. 

“Right. Sorry. Okay. I’m Jim, Jim Reynolds,” he held his hand out towards Dean.

“Nice to meet ya, Jim. I’m Dean, this is Cas.”

“Nice to meet you,” Cas smiled, shaking Jim’s hand.

“Let’s head upstairs, so you two can have a look around,” Jim said. 

The apartment had a reasonable-sized kitchen, which Dean wouldn’t admit to, but brought him a good deal of excitement. The dining room, if it could really be called that, was just a circular, wooden table to the side of the kitchen space. The living room took up the remainder of the main, open apartment space. It had a cozy-feel to it with a distressed, olive sofa and its matching loveseat and recliner. The other decor in the room contrasted the green with mustard yellow tones. A mahogany coffee table sat in between the furniture and the tv situated against the wall. Jim gestured towards the tv stand. 

“Record player, color tv, _and_ latest viewing technology: the betamax player,” Jim said, proudly. 

“S’nice,” Dean replied, looking around the main, open area. 

Jim led them through one of the doors into the bathroom. The bathroom was draped in the same olive green color while the toilet, sink, and shower tub were a bright aqua. The other room branching off of the living area was the bedroom. The size wasn’t anything special, about as big as Dean’s room back at the bunker. However, the majority of the space was taken up by the queen-sized bed. The view from the bedroom was a stunning shot of the mountain range, while they would be able to look down on Main St. from their living room window. 

“Now there ain’t any washing machine and dryer in here, but there is a laundromat just down the street,” Jim said. “And I know living above a rowdy bar ain’t all that glamorous, so I’m only askin’ for $300 a month, utilities included.” 

Dean shared a quick look with Cas, who nodded.

“You’ve got yourself a deal if you’re hiring downstairs,” Dean quipped. 

Jim held his hand out to Dean, “Welcome to the Colt Lightning Counter apartment. Let’s head back down to my office and get this lease and employment paperwork settled.”

Dean and Cas ended up giving Jim just about the last of their cash as their security deposit, so their first stop for errands was the bank to set up a joint account for when Dean would be starting work at the bar. Jim had given Dean until the weekend until his first shift, so he would have a few days to get settled at the apartment, as well as letting them get first month’s rent to him once they were able to find Cas a job and rack in some cash, after a heart wrenching story about how they lost everything, or whatever. Then came the fun of buying all the living necessities for the kitchen and bathroom and, of course, more clothes, courtesy of Hector Aframian, the name on their credit card. The two didn’t get back to their new apartment until 10 pm that evening. They put away the perishables and threw some sheets on the bed before retreating downstairs to let Jim make them a couple drinks, on the house. Jim gave Dean a few lessons in bartending and mixing before everything began to blur together after Dean, of course, had to taste-test everything he was making. Dean allowed Cas to pull him up the stairs around 1 am. 

“Cas, you’re such a good friend.”

Cas hid a frown while Dean leaned against him.

“What would I do without you, man?” Dean pressed his face into Cas’ shoulder while Cas let them into their new home. “Thanks for always havin’ my back.”

“Of course, Dean. It’s been a long day; why don’t you take the bed tonight.”

“Man, I’m cool just sharing it. That couch is nice, but we’re both pretty tall; the bed is a queen and waaaaaaay comfier,” Dean slurred while pushing Cas in the direction of the bedroom. “Come on, let’s just get some sleep.”

Dean shucked off his jeans and climbed into the bed, leaving Cas standing awkwardly at its side.

“Turn off the light before you get in,” Dean mumbled. 

Cas did as he was told and changed into some of his new sweatpants before laying carefully next to Dean, who was already snoring softly. 

“We will figure this out Dean. I promise,” Cas whispered into the shadows.


	2. Chapter 2: Time is [NOT] on My Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Time is on My Side" - the Rolling Stones, 1982

A good chunk of Thursday was spent organizing the kitchen and bathroom cupboards, with a break for Dean to make sandwiches for lunch. In the early evening, once the two of them had everything settled into place, they decided to take a walk around downtown. Since they didn’t have a car, it was a really good thing that downtown had pretty much everything they’d need to get by within about a mile radius. A few outlet stores and smaller shops lined Main St., while the other adjacent streets had a grocery store, a few diners, a few bars, ten or so restaurants, a post office, a laundromat, a cinema, and a bowling alley. There was also a two-story marketplace by a park at the end of Main St. that would be open on the weekends. One of the smaller shops on Main St. was a library. Dean allowed Cas to pull him inside. The place was tranquil and cozy, especially in contrast to the bitter chill outside. An older woman sat behind the desk, squinting down at a book, but other than her, they were the only people in the building. Dean moved to look around the shelves while Cas walked up to the desk. 

“Hello, m’am.” 

The woman looked up, startled, as she was so focused on her book.

“Oh, I’m sorry, mister, I didn’t notice you come in.”

“Not a problem. I’m Cas,” he reached his hand out. “My friend, Dean, and I are new to town.”

“Lovely to meet you, Cas,” she waved at Dean from across the room. “I’m Margaret. I’ve been the city librarian here for almost 35 years.”

“You work here all by yourself?” Cas asked. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t you get lonely?”

“Sometimes. But I chat with the regulars, and it’s always nice to have some quiet reading time,” Margaret smiled.

“Well, if you are ever in need of any help here, or could just use someone to talk to, I would love to join you here.”

Margaret stared at him, slight confusion gracing her features.

“You’d want a job to book-keep and organize with an old lady all day?” Margaret chuckled. 

“More than you’d expect.”

“Are you able to be here weekdays from 9-4:30?” Margaret asked.

“I can start on Monday,” Cas said.

“What’re you startin’ Monday?” Dean slapped a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

“I think I just got a job,” Cas grinned at both Dean and Margaret.

“You got a real sweet fella here, mister,” Margaret winked at Dean.

“Oh, we’re actually just friends,” Dean blushed. “But, he is quite the sweetheart. Good for you Cas.” Dean smiled at Cas, his hand still resting on his friend’s shoulder. 

“I’m Dean, by the way,” Dean leaned forward to shake Margaret’s hand.

“Margaret. So wonderful to meet you two. Well, Cas, if you want to be here at 9 am on Monday, I can have your paperwork ready, and you can get started.” 

“That’d be fantastic; I’ll see you then. Have a great weekend!” Cas and Dean waved goodbye as they made their way back on to Main St. 

“I think we might be alright,” Dean said as they started making their way back to their apartment, bumping his shoulder against Cas’.

Cas took a long look at Dean’s profile until Dean met his eyes. 

“We will be. Sam will figure out how to get us back,” Cas sighed. “And, until then, we’ll have to get by with each other.”

“Nothin’ we haven’t been through before.” Dean tossed Cas a soft smile, and they walked the rest of the way to their apartment in a comfortable silence. 

When the two got back to their apartment, Dean got started on dinner, while Cas watched from the table until Dean gestured for him to give him a hand. Cas was still new to humanity, so cooking was not one of his skills. He had observed Dean a few times, but never really did more than that. A deep blush bloomed on his neck and cheeks as he approached Dean at the counter. Dean had pushed his henley up to his elbows and was smushing ground beef into a bowl of seasoning he had prepared.

“I’m gonna have you shape the meatballs while I get started on the sauce,” Dean said, rinsing his hands off.

Cas took a hesitant look at the mixture before plunging his hand into the cold, slimy meat, clenching his fist to gather enough for the first meatball. He brought the lump to his face, squishing it in his hand, his face contorting into a frown, before placing his other hand over top of it. He gently began shaping the meat into something resembling a sphere before rolling it in his palm to smooth out the edges. Cas glanced up to Dean’s face who was starting at Cas’ hands, his lips parted slightly. 

“Dean?”

Dean’s eyes were glazed over, still intently focused on Cas’ hands.

“Dean?” Cas said a little louder. 

“Hm?” Dean’s eyes shot up to meet Cas’, and his lips pursed into a thin line.

“Are you alright; you’re looking a little flushed,” Cas asked. 

“No, yeah, I’m good. I’m just gonna start on the sauce.” Dean moved to grab the pot from the cabinet and place it on the counter but, instead, gracefully dropped it on his foot.

“Shit.”

“Dean, are you alright,” Cas questioned, his hand still full of meat.

“Yup. I’m fine.” Dean hopped away from Cas’ slimy hand while retrieving the pot from the floor. 

Dean tried his best to hide his blush from his friend while gathering the ingredients for the sauce, which was difficult while Cas continued carefully groping the meatballs. 

He kept his face down while chopping the garlic and onions and let them saute in the pot while he chopped the tomatoes and peppers before mixing together the remaining ingredients. Cas was just about finished shaping the meatballs by the time Dean added everything in the pot to boil and simmer for the next hour. Dean helped Cas with the last couple, and together they plopped them in the pot. 

“Letting the meatballs cook with the sauce gives them a richer flavor, and they are more tender than any other method of cooking that I’ve tried,” Dean explained to Cas. “We can hang around for the next 45 minutes or so before I need to get the noodles started.”

Dean attempted to teach Cas two-person poker at the table while the sauce simmered on the stove. Good thing they weren’t playing for money, or stripping, because Dean would be completely broke and naked. Bullshit that Cas had never heard of this game before. Probably had all the tips and tricks stored in that creepy, angel hard-drive of his. Dean was finally able to get away from this ass-beating when he went to start on the noodles, leaving Cas to put away the cards with a smirk smeared on his face. 

“Come here,” Dean beckoned Cas over. “Gotta add in the last minute salt and pepper.”

Dean held a wooden spoon out in Cas’ direction, his hand wavering under it to catch any drops. He raised his eyebrows when Cas only blankly stared at him.

“Have a taste,” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Oh, right.” Cas leaned forward and placed his lips around the edge of the spoon extended towards him. 

“S’good.”

Dean chuckled, rolling his eyes, before bringing the spoon to his own lips to test the flavor.

“Could use a bit more salt.” Dean generously shook some more salt in before stirring and tasting it again.

“Here, now try it.” Dean, once again, extended the spoon to Cas. “Better, right?”

“Yes, Dean. It’s very good.”

“Good.” Dean smiled to himself, giving the sauce one last stir before turning off the stove. 

Dean grabbed some plates from the cabinet and dished him and Cas up some pasta before scooping them each a hefty amount of sauce and meatballs. The two sat adjacent to each other at the table and dug into their meal. 

“You’re right, Dean. These meatballs are juicy,” Cas mumbled around a large bite.

“Told ya,” Dean smiled, shoveling spaghetti into his mouth.

“Oh, Dean, you’ve got a little… here,” Cas reached forward. 

Cas brushed his thumb against the corner of Dean’s mouth, his brows furrowed, a focused look on a face. Dean’s eyes dropped to Cas’ hand, and his lips parted slightly. Their eyes met briefly before Cas’ cheeks turned red and he lowered his hand to his napkin. Dean kept his focus on Cas’ face and allowed a small smile to form. 

The two ate their dinner rather quickly before leaning back in their chairs, staring down at their empty plates. 

“Wonder what Sam and Eileen are having for dinner,” Dean said quietly. 

“Probably something green and low in cholesterol with you being out of the house,” Cas chuckled. 

Dean laughed for a moment before going quiet.

“I always cook for Sam, ever since we were kids. It was a comfort,” Dean smiled a little. “I sure hope Eileen can cook, or at least can fend for herself if she’s hoping for anything edible.”

“I’m sure they will both be just fine,” Cas laughed. 

“Yeah,” Dean hummed. “Help me with the dishes? I’ll wash, you dry.”

“Sure,” Cas brought his plate to the sink and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Dean.

They did the dishes rather quickly; with just the two of them dirtying plates and silverware, they spent the most time on the sauce pot. Following the dishes, the two of them took turns showering. There was no conversation regarding if they were going to be sharing the bed or not, just a hesitant, unspoken glance before they both retreated to the bedroom together.

* * *

Dean woke as the sun was rising over the mountain range, shining in through the bedroom window. He knew there wasn’t a good chance of falling back asleep; he’d already gotten more than his usual four hours. So, he enjoyed the peaceful sunrise illuminating Cas’ sleeping face with every inch that it rose higher into the sky. Cas used to watch him sleep; Dean didn’t keep quiet about how creepy he found it, but now he was beginning to understand it. The harsh lines that usually occupied Cas’ face were now smooth and calm. Their lives rarely allowed for calmness while they were conscious. Dean was sure he, himself, probably looked ten years younger while he slept. 

Dean carefully pulled himself out of bed around 7, hoping not to wake Cas, who grumbled a little, but promptly rolled over to where Dean had been sleeping and was back asleep. Dean brewed himself a cup of coffee from the pot that came with the place; it was actually pretty similar to the one they had at the bunker. He sat in the recliner while he sipped his cup of coffee before pulling on his coat and slipping out of the apartment down to the quiet, early-morning Main St. Dean came across a small record shop one street over and ended up buying a few of his favorite albums that had only recently been released. If they were going to be stuck here for a while, he might as well utilize the record play in their apartment and enjoy Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath, Queen, The Rolling Stones, and best of all, Led Zeppelin while they were actually at the beginning, or prime, of their careers.

Cas was still asleep when Dean got back to the apartment, so he put on Led Zeppelin IV and got started on some breakfast. Once the bacon started sizzling, Cas shuffled out of the bedroom wearing his fuzzy bee socks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Dean’s hand itched at his sides, wanting so badly to run his fingers through Cas’ bedhead. 

Instead, he poured Cas a cup of the freshly-brewed coffee and set it in front of Cas while squeezing his shoulder. Cas merely hmmfed in response but greedily took the first sip. 

Dean smiled and went back to flipping the bacon and got started on the pancake mix. 

When consciousness slowly, but surely, came back to Cas, he observed Dean cook. He watched the way his back muscles moved while he stirred the pancake mix. And how he moved so familiarly around the kitchen, like he’d been doing it for years--like they’d been living in this domesticity, together, for years. Cas never really thought about it when he was an angel: how much he enjoyed watching Dean move. He was always so graceful. One would think based on their hunting career, they would have stiff and harsh movements, that of a carpenter, but instead, Dean moved like a dancer. Each step precise and calculated and beautiful. He could watch Dean for hours. He _has_ watched Dean for hours, and he will never tire of it. 

Cas must have lost track of time while he was lost in tracking Dean’s movements because suddenly, Dean was placing a steaming place of food in front of him, waving a hand in front of his face.

Cas blinked out of his daze, “What?”

“I asked, ‘does Sleeping Beauty want the last cup of coffee before I start another pot?’” Dean chuckled.

“Oh. Yes please,” Cas watched Dean pour the last drops of the caffeinated liquid into his mug, starting the next pot before settling down next to Cas to eat their breakfast.

Again, Cas had lost himself in Dean’s movements.

“You gonna take a bite?” Dean asked. “Or maybe you should down that second cup of coffee first so you can actually process the taste,” Dean laughed.

“Oh, right, yes. This looks wonderful,” Cas dropped his eyes down to the plate in front of him while Dean continued to look at the blush blooming on Cas’ face. 

Looks didn’t even compare to the taste.

“Dean, this _is_ wonderful,” Cas groaned, that gravelly voice, still laced with sleep, doing _things_ to Dean that it really shouldn’t.

“S’just some pancakes with bacon and eggs; Nothin’ special.”

“I wish you would think higher of yourself, Dean. You have so much to take pride in.” Cas exhaled.

Dean didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. A blush now occupied his cheeks, and they ate their breakfast while “Stairway to Heaven” played softly in the background.

* * *

The rest of the day included the two men listening to Dean’s new records and messing around with the color tv and the six different channels they got on it. By the time evening rolled around, they had decided to try out the steakhouse restaurant down the street, which then had Cas practically begging Dean to pick up steaks to cook them for dinner some time during the upcoming week, before stopping at the grocery store to grab a few six packs. 

The two spent the rest of their evening sitting on the couch, tossing back a couple of beers, talking about the 70s. 

“Come on, dude, great things happened in the 70s. For one thing, I was born in 79,” Dean winked. 

“Along with the prevailing racism, sexism, and homophobia,” Cas quipped back. 

“Okay, yes the acceptance movements needed some work, but I mean the movies, and the music alone, man… it’s iconic,” Dean gushed. 

“Ah yes, many of your cowboy movies came out in this decade,” Cas smirked. 

“Classics. The Clint Eastwood era.” Dean smiled. “I’ll have to take you to the cinema while we’re here--go see some of his best work. 

“I’d like that. Can we also try more card games? And maybe skiing while we’re here, right next to the mountains,” Cas asked.

“I haven’t been on the slopes since I was single-digits, come to think of it; I’m sure I don’t even remember how to do it,” Dean said. “Maybe we can learn together.” 

Dean pressed his shoulder to Cas’, but didn’t pull away. The alcohol causing both of them to lean into the touch. A while passed, or maybe a few moments. 

“Are we bad people?” Dean asked quietly.

“Of course not, Dean. What makes you say that?”

“Because I’m having fun. Spending time with you. No monsters. Domesticity. I don’t know,” Dean trailed off.

“I know you think you’re being selfish for enjoying a sense of normalcy, but, Dean, you’ve never been able to experience it before, and now you have the chance,” Cas said. “I’m having fun too.”

“When we get back,” Dean paused, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “Can we try to, ya know, keep hanging out like this?”

Dean gazed at Cas, doubt in his eyes.

“Of course, Dean.” Cas rested a hand on Dean’s knee while meeting his worried eyes. 

Dean let out a trembling breath, before leaping from the couch. 

“You, uh, want another beer?” Dean questioned.

“Sure,” Cas said, his hand now lying awkwardly on the couch. 

The two continued their easy conversation and nursed a few more beers, before Dean ushered a tipsy Cas off to bed. Tipsy Cas was a major flirt, even though he probably didn’t realize what he was doing, but Dean’s face was beet red for the rest of the night.

* * *

The following afternoon, Saturday, Dean headed downstairs to the bar for his first shift. Before he started, however, he had to get fashioned-up in a vest, a pair of cowboy boots and a cowboy hat. The hat wasn’t near as authentic as his one back at the bunker was, but it wasn’t horrible. 

There was a small kitchen behind the bar, but the only food in the place was appetizers; the only food Dean would ever be expected to prepare would be chips and salsa, or slicing fruit for certain drinks. Jim handed him over to Jenna, a girl who looked to be in her early thirties, who was preparing everything behind the bar. Jenna wore a brown, unbuttoned vest over a v-cut white shirt, that no doubt brought in a few extra bucks each night, with her own pair of cowboy boots and a red bandana acting as a headband keeping her dark waves out of her face. 

Jim grumbled something about ‘more limes’ before hustling out of the bar, leaving Dean shifting awkwardly on his heels.

“So we open in an hour, at 4, and stay open until 2 a.m.” Jenna said while dumping a bucket of ice into the cooler under the bar. “Normally it’s just me most nights, along with Ricky, our cook,” Jenna gestured towards the kitchen. “Jim will stop in to help out if it gets real busy. Come back here and start looking over our drink menus.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Dean hurried over to where Jenna was pointing. 

“Jim said you’re new here; where you comin’ from?” Jenna asked.

“Me and my buddy, Cas, just came over from Kansas.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“I, uh, lost my family, in a way. Me ‘n Cas, we only had each other, so we decided to start new someplace else, I guess. Ended up here.” Dean shrugged.

“Sorry to hear it,” Jenna paused. “Lost my parents to some shitty home invasion gone wrong. Dad wouldn’t step aside from mom. I was taking my little brother out for a weekend on the slopes for his 15th birthday. I was 18.”

“I’m sorry you two had to go through that.”

“Me too. They were good people. Got this job after that happened. Didn’t want Alex to get taken away from me, so I needed to support us. Helped send him off to law school a few years back.” Jenna smiled. 

“Sounds like he’s got a pretty awesome sister,” Dean said.

Jenna huffed, “Maybe. I’m just trying to get by, most days. Alright, enough of this sappy shit. I’ve shared more about myself to you than most of my friends, and definitely every relationship I’ve ever had. We’ve got work to do.”

Dean smirked and began slicing lemons, limes, and oranges that Jenna placed on the counter in front of him.

The Colt Lightning Counter didn’t get unbearably busy Saturday night. Dean was surprised at how many drunk guys tried to get in Jenna’s pants by offering to buy her a shot of bottom shelf tequila, acting like they were presenting her with world peace. Jenna handled herself pretty well, Dean realized. She flirted and milked the guys well enough for tips, but as soon as they got handsy or derogatory, she destroyed their egos, and they stumbled out of the place.

Jenna let Dean try his hand at making a few of the drinks, and he only fucked up once, which surprisingly made Jenna happy. She said this justified them splitting the fucked-up white russian so as to not waste alcohol. Jim didn’t mind a bit of responsible drinking on the job. 

The place dwindled down to just a few customers around midnight, who Jenna described as her regulars. Dean explained a little bit more of his past with Jenna, like his brother and best friend. Nothing to blow his cover. Around midnight, Cas came down to see how things were going.

“Nice outfit,” Cas smirked as he took a seat at the bar.

Dean was startled out of his trance while drying off the old fashioned glasses.

“Shut up; I look adorable, and you know it,” Dean laughed.

Cas only hummed in response, eyes raking over Dean’s getup.

“Jenna,” Dean gestured for her to come over. “This is Cas.”

“Ah, nice to meet you. First night here and Dean’s already told me so much about you,” Jenna held her hand out to shake Cas’.

“How’d you like to be the guinea pig for Dean’s first long island iced tea?” Jenna smiled at Cas, pulling out a tall glass.

“You kiddin’ me? I’ve never met anyone more lightweight than Cas; the long island is gonna knock him on his ass,” Dean exclaimed.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing you’re here to catch him.”

“I’m sorry, how much alcohol is in this beverage?” Cas asked.

“Five different types of hard liquor and a splash of cola,” Jenna winked at him. 

Cas drew in a large breath, “I guess it’s a good thing tomorrow’s Sunday then,” Cas said with a grin.

“Yeah, good thing the bar’s closed, so I can stay up and help your ass to the toilet when you need to puke in the middle of the night,” Dean said.

“I think you underestimate my abilities, Dean. Make me a long island, please,” Cas said.

“That’s the spirit!” Jenna replied, slapping Cas on the shoulder. “The place isn’t gonna get any busier in the last couple hours, we’ll all have one.”

“My first night here and you’re already trying to get me fired,” Dean huffed.

“Aw come on, Dean. I thought you were better at handling your alcohol than anyone,” Cas mocked him.

“It’s the tequila that’s gonna fuck me,” Dean replied. “But fine. I’m doing this for Cas, so he doesn’t make a fool of himself alone.”

Dean whipped up the amber drink and placed it in front of Cas, waiting expectantly. Cas raised the glass to his lips and swallowed a large gulp before letting out a dry cough.

“That’s very strong,” Cas grimaced. 

“You drink enough, you won’t be able to taste it anymore,” Dean laughed while he got to making his own. 

Jenna was already sipping on her long island, expertly, her facial expression not faltering once. The last of the regulars mumbled a goodbye, tossing a few bucks on the bar before heading out. That left the three of them cheering on Cas for the next hour, trading stories and laughing with each other. 

Cas was drunk, no doubt about it. By the deep red tainting his entire face and the permanent dimples plastered to his cheeks, that much was obvious. Dean wasn’t even buzzed, but with the amount of times Cas winked at him, he was also blushing. 

“Deeeaaan,” Cas whined, patting Dean’s hand. “Please make me ‘nother drink.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve got something real good for you,” Dean said, turning back to grab another glass.

“Thanks, Deeeeaaaan.” Cas smiled.

“You’re not seriously getting him another drink, are you?” Jenna whispered to Dean.

“Hell no,” Dean replied, filling the glass with water.

“Here you go, buddy.” Dean placed the glass in front of Cas who greedily poured it down his throat.

“Woah, you were right, Dean” Cas looked puzzled. “Doesn’t even taste like alcohol.”

“Mmm, drink up,” Dean chuckled, patting Cas on the back, a small smile forming on his face.

Jenna shot a knowing look towards the two of them while pulling out a couple of beers, and placed one in front of Dean. 

“Now we’re getting back to my level.” Dean smiled, taking a large gulp from the bottle.

Cas couldn’t avert his eyes from the bob of Dean’s adam apple, a droplet of beer making its way down Dean’s throat. Dean locked on to Cas’ eyes while he finished his gulp. Cas shifted on the bar stool, feeling sweat bead on his brow. After a moment of Jenna shifting awkwardly to their side, she cleared her throat.

“Probably not gonna get any more customers tonight. How ‘bout we start cleaning the place and totaling the sales,” Jenna tapped Dean on the elbow. “Unless you’d rather take him up to bed; I’m fine finishing up here,” Jenna smirked, glancing between the two of them.

“Uh, no, yeah, I can help finish up here; Cas is fine.” Dean hid his blush in the lip of his bottle. 

Cas was fine while they finished up at the bar. He happily sat on the stool while Dean and Jenna moved about the place. He even pulled Dean away from his mopping to dance with him to the tune of Chicago’s “If You Leave me Now.” Jenna came out of the bathroom to find Cas stepping on Dean’s feet, Dean attempting to hold Cas’s weight while simultaneously spinning them around. Wide smiles were plastered on both of their faces, inches apart from each other. They didn’t even realize when Jenna had caught them, they just continued their dance, slower now, Dean leading Cas’ movements. Entranced until a damp rag slammed against the side of Dean’s face causing a fit of laughter from Cas.

“Go to bed!” Jenna shouted, laughing. “You’re useless to me, and with all your spinning, Cas is probably gonna throw up on the mostly-clean floor. I’ll see you on Monday. Have a good night, you two.” Jenna winked at Dean before picking up the discarded mop.

Dean successfully got Cas up the stairs to their apartment, into some pajama pants, and under the covers without any issues. Cas was snoring softly by the time Dean brushed his teeth and settled next to him. Dean spent a few long moments staring at the contours of Cas’ face.

_Damn it._

* * *

Cas didn’t throw up, but he did have one hell of a hangover to which Dean helped him cure with strong coffee and a greasy breakfast. Sunday passed by rather quickly, and on Monday morning, Dean made Cas breakfast before he headed off to his first day at the library. 

Turns out Margaret started working at the library when her only son, James, passed away from the flu when he was twelve. Margaret is now 70, having spent half her life in the library. James had always loved when his mother would take him to look at the books; this was her way of still being close to him. James’ father never married Margaret, and he left her to go join the military. She never heard from him again. A tattered, black and white photo of Margaret and James sits next to a clunky (small for the time) computer on her desk.

Cas listened while Margaret told him about her long life: a tale of love and heartbreak and loss. He eagerly took in every detail of information, cherishing her trust in him. The majority of his day consisted of learning the cataloguing system and putting books on the shelves. He listened to Margaret talk about her favorite books, and even got himself a library card, setting aside a few books to bring home for him and Dean. He enjoyed Margaret’s company, yet dreaded how one day he would have to leave her. She seemed so grateful for someone to listen, to share some tragedy. He shared what he could with her about his life without giving too much away. They shared a lot of experiences. He would try not to think about his leaving, one day, if they ever made it back home. 

Cas brought a few books home with him. He remembered Dean mentioning _Slaughterhouse-five_ to him once, so he picked that up for himself while grabbing a couple other Vonnegut books for Dean to try out. Dean was already at the bar when Cas got back from the library. Cas stopped to chat with him and Jenna for a few moments, but for some reason, Monday nights got busy at The Colt Lightning Counter, so he soon retreated to their apartment. 

For dinner, Cas found a note on the fridge and a plate of grilled chicken that Dean had made him. Cas smiled at the thought. He ate and showered and settled into the loveseat, his feet curled up underneath him, and began _Slaughterhouse-five._

Dean carefully opened the door to the apartment at 3 a.m. to find Cas asleep on the loveseat, book open against his chest. Dean padded over to him, grabbing the book and placing it on the coffee table before shaking Cas’ shoulder.

“Hey, buddy, let’s get you in bed. Your back’s gonna hurt if you sleep here all night.”

Cas grumbled but allowed himself to be led to the bedroom and tucked under the covers, Dean’s body radiating warmth all the way to Cas’ core, causing him to drift off into a peaceful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3: About Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "About Time" - 2013 movie

A couple weeks into getting zapped to 1976, Dean and Cas seemed to be adjusting to civilian life fairly well. Every day gave them more comfort in their lives here, but less comfort with the dwindling hope about making it back home. Neither of them said anything; it simply remained a silent suspicion, eating away at their minds. 

November was quickly coming to a close. Dean and Cas spent long hours at the bar and library, while spending most of the weekends with each other. Dean made Cas breakfast every morning. 

Late one evening, a man who looked to be in his early fifties plopped down on a stool in front of Dean and ordered a bourbon on the rocks. Henry, was the man’s name, and he worked at the auto repair shop on the edge of town. 

“Nothing like piecing together an old hunk of metal back into a gorgeous instrument, huh?” Dean commented. 

“You fix up cars?” Henry asked, raising a brow.

“Done my fair share. Always gave me a sense of purpose. Capability. Turning something so broken back into a working machine.” 

“Wish more people looked at it the way you do.” Henry smiled.

Jenna was off that night, and the bar slowed down to just a few patrons around midnight. Henry was still at the bar, nursing his second bourbon, no rush at all. Dean spent the next hour chatting with Henry; he put Dean at ease, reminded him of Bobby in a way. Henry and his wife lived right by the auto shop at the edge of town. His wife was too scared to have any kids just in case another war came around to take Henry away like her daddy had been taken from her, but they were happy, just the two of them. 

“Haven’t seen you around town before,” Henry said.

“That’ll be ‘cause my buddy and I just rolled in a couple weeks ago from Kansas,” Dean replied.

“Kansas, huh?” Henry paused, taking a sip of bourbon. “Why’d you come here?”

So then Dean went in to vaguely explaining his and Cas’ “tragic backstory.” He was pretty sure that Henry didn’t buy it; a strange look graced Henry’s features. He didn’t seem bothered by the dishonesty, though. 

“Well, I can’t imagine working here takes up all your time; if you’re interested, come on down to the shop and show me what you can do,” Henry offered, finishing off his drink.

“Seriously? Just like that?” Dean questioned.

“Sure. Could always use the help, and you seem genuine enough.” Henry shrugged. “I’m sure the customers wouldn’t mind the cars getting fixed up a little quicker with an extra set of hands around the place.”

And that’s how Dean began working at the auto repair shop weekdays from 8-3, followed by the bar from 6-2 weekdays along with a full shift Saturday. Dean still prepared him and Cas breakfast each morning and tried to whip up something for the two of them before he headed to his shift at the bar, but some days Cas had to fend for himself. He was getting better, though. At least he was getting good at microwaving tv dinners. 

Dean loved his job at the auto repair shop; he always admired that kind of work. Sure he liked his job at the bar well enough, but there was something about bringing a car back to life--learning its story--that nothing could compare to. Also constantly smelling like alcohol wasn’t as fun as it sounded. 

Henry was a pretty great guy to work for--even taught Dean a thing or two. He felt more like an old friend rather than a boss. He made sure Dean wasn’t overworking himself and that he always had eaten breakfast and brought something for lunch. It was nice having someone looking out for him. It made him miss his brother.

Henry could definitely tell something was off about Dean but still couldn’t figure out what. The way he talked and dressed and styled his hair was just weird. Maybe it was a Kansas thing. 

The auto shop paid a hell of a lot better than his bar gig. Dean didn’t have to rely on a busy night or generous customers to rack in some cash, and instead got paid about a buck over minimum wage, which was about $7 less than he was used to back in 2020, but it’s not like he ever really did honest work back home, anyways. 

After about a week of working at the auto shop, Henry realized Dean’s passion and initiative and granted him a pay raise along with the option for a couple extra hours if he wanted. And he wanted.

Dean had, however, been overworking himself just a bit. Jenna, Henry, and Cas noticed how tired he was on a daily basis. He wasn’t fucking up the job yet, but he was sluggish and lacked his usual liveliness. Truth was, Dean and Cas weren’t destitute; they both worked full weeks. So, Dean sat down with Jim one evening, and they decided that Dean would work at the bar on Saturday nights, while spending the rest of his time at the auto shop. It’s not like the bar got insanely busy during the week, and he was always a floor away if they needed any help. 

Just after December started, Henry realized Dean had been walking to work every day when he arrived twenty minutes late covered in snow, lips blue, and shaking to holy hell. After a stern ‘talking to’ about asking for help when he needed it, and about an hour defrosting by the wood-burning stove, Henry led him to the back of the shop and yanked a grimy sheet off of a large structure to reveal a tan 1967 Buick sport wagon with wood paneling. The car looked like it needed a little TLC, but the frame was in pretty good shape.

“You fix this thing up, you can have it,” Henry grumbled. “But only when we don’t have other stuff to be workin’ on. ‘Til then, I’m comin’ to get you in the morning.”

Judging by Henry’s tone, Dean knew better than to argue. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Dean couldn’t help the excitement that boiled in his chest. He quickly rubbed his hands together over the heat and got to work. The sooner he got his work done, the sooner he could get his new wheels fixed up. He’d been trying not to think about how much he longed to be behind Baby’s wheel; this would have to do for now.

Dean could hardly contain himself at dinner that night.

“Cas, it’s one of them old station wagons you see in movies, and it’s damn ugly, but we’re gonna have a car,” Dean gushed. “Sort of reminds me of your old continental.”

“My car was not ugly.” Cas scowled, chopping up the veggies for the salad. 

“Right, right, eye of the beholder ‘n all that,” Dean smirked. “Anyway, it’s gonna be great. Maybe we can take a drive through the mountains when I finish fixin’ her up.”

“I’d like that.” Cas smiled.

It was an early night for Dean after their burgers and, much to his dismay, salad. Dean had stayed an hour later at the shop just so he could get a look under the hood of the wagon and see what he had to work with. He was tired. Dean settled under the covers and let himself be lulled to sleep by the turning of pages of whatever book Cas was engrossed in this time. He dozed off with a smile decorating his lips.

When Dean woke up for work the next morning, he encountered a bit of a _problem,_ to say the least. It wasn’t so much that it upset him, but… It complicated things a bit. 

Dark, disheveled hair was tickling his nose, the light, citrus aroma of Cas’ shampoo made its way to his senses. His lips were but a millimeter away from pressing against the gentle skin of Cas’ nape. Dean’s entire frame was curled tightly against Cas’ figure, and his arm was thrown protectively around Cas’ middle.

To be perfectly honest, Dean was surprised that it took a whole month for this to happen. Sure, he cleaned the pipes now and then, but it had been awhile since he’d been with another person. And Cas is hot. It’s not like Dean had never thought about what things might be like if the two of them decided to try something more. But things had always been too damn complicated. It was always the end of the world somewhere. 

But now? God was gone. The world was fine, and would likely stay that way until well after they had passed. Cas was human--no more poofing off to heaven; his home was with the Winchesters. Also, who the hell knew how long they’d be stuck in 1976. Dean couldn’t fathom the two of them parting ways while they were here. What was really stopping them?

Well for one thing, doubt. What if Cas didn’t want anything more than friendship? Sure he stood too close to Dean, and looked at him strange sometimes, but Cas is a strange dude. But then there were all those times that Cas sacrificed himself, or betrayed his family for Dean. But he and Sam do stuff like that for each other all the time. And Cas had never even been in a romantic relationship; did he even know how those worked? Did Dean? He hadn’t been in a serious relationship, since well, Lisa. But even then, that was different. She was more of a hope: A chance at a normal life. And that was never going to work for Dean. 

Dean liked women. That much he knew. But… some guys could be pretty enticing. Dr. Sexy was definitely a man he’d make a pass for. So was Harrison Ford, Patrick Swayze, Gunner Lawless, Eddie Van Halen, the witness from that case in Charleston a few years back, that one bartender he almost got killed, and okay his list was getting a little long. Sure he’d had threesomes with another guy present, involving some kissing and hand-action, but that was all ‘cause they were full of endorphins and trying to give the girl the best possible experience, right? And who hasn’t masturbated in the shower to their best friend at least once? Come on, having to watch Cas obliterate a whole nest of vamps by himself, while Dean was tied to a chair? A man can only take so much. 

Dean realized he’d gone rigid against Cas’ back while these thoughts scrambled through his sluggish mind. He attempted to relax his body, which caused Cas to somehow press closer against Dean. He really hoped Cas was a heavy sleeper because the situation starting to stir below the waist would make things pretty awkward if Cas was conscious at this moment. 

Dean did his best to extract himself from the bed as carefully as possible before dashing out of the room to the shower, which needed to be ice cold if he wanted to avoid the shame that would encompass him all day. 

Typically, before Cas got around for the day, he would come eat breakfast with Dean prior to him heading off to the auto shop, but Dean, and his tenacity to avoid anything regarding “feelings,” would not be doing that today. Nope. Dean got the hell outta dodge as quickly as he could, practically chugging a cup of coffee and cramming a bagel down his throat. Henry, and his plan to drive him to work, be damned; he could start tomorrow. All Dean left was a scribbled note on the counter, telling Cas he wanted to get an early start on the car. 

Dean’s excuse to Henry was simply, “weird morning,” and Henry didn’t push it. He could tell that Dean was a little off, though. His movements were stiff, and his jaw was set, and he didn’t say much all morning.

* * *

Cas was in a similar situation. He had woken in the early hours of the morning to feel little puffs of air against his neck, a warmth pressed against the entirety of his back, and a hand resting on his ribs. He knew Dean had probably not meant to shift towards him in the night, but it was nice to fantasize for a moment that maybe he had meant to. Cas didn’t move, only let a small sigh escape his lips before drifting back asleep. When he woke up again, Dean was gone. 

Margaret could sense Cas’ melancholy. His typical animated personality had vanished. 

“Hunny, you look like someone broke your heart.”

“Is it that obvious?” Cas asked.

“What happened?” Margaret pulled her chair next to Cas’ and placed her hand on his shoulder. 

Cas averted his eyes and fiddled with his fingers. 

“I’m not one to judge… if it has something to do with that roommate of yours,” Margaret insisted. 

“I think I’m in too deep,” Cas sighed.

Margaret simply waited, looking at him with sincere eyes.

“I woke up with him wrapped around me. I thought it had to be a dream at first.” Cas paused, then lowered his voice to an almost whisper, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so content in my entire existence.”

“I don’t see the issue, Cas.”

“He was gone when the next time I woke up,” Cas looked down. “We always eat breakfast together.”

The two were silent for a few moments. 

“He’s been the influence that has sanctioned every meaningful decision in my life, and now, here?” He let out a long sigh, “all we have is each other. I don’t want to ruin what we have.” 

“Things have their way of working themselves out. It seems like he may need some time, is all.” Margaret squeezed his hand, sharing a soft smile.

* * *

Henry tried to cheer Dean up in whatever way he could, only he was in the dark about what was obviously eating away at him. The only thing he could think of would be something to do with that roommate of his. But, it wasn’t his place to meddle in Dean’s friendship. When lunch came around, he decided to see if he could get anything out of him. 

“Nothin’ important.” Dean replied. “Won’t let it impact my work.”

“I don’t care about that, Dean. I care about how you’re doin,” Henry said. “What’re your plans for tonight?”

“Nothing particular that I can think of. Why?” Dean questioned.

“Elizabeth’s been asking about my new prodigy,” Henry chucked. “Wants me to bring you over so she can make you dinner one of these nights, if you’re up for it.”

“Uh, yeah. I could make that work,” Dean said. “I’d need to let Cas know I won’t be able to make dinner tonight, though.”

“Bring him over. Elizabeth loves guests,” Henry laughed. 

“Alright. I’m sure he’d like that.”

Now all he had to do was work up the courage to go back home, and talk to Cas, instead of catching a bus to Maine and disappearing forever.

* * *

Dean and Cas ended up making it to Henry and Elizabeth’s around 7. Dean had awkwardly mentioned dinner once he got home, not acknowledging anything about the morning, and Castiel agreed. Dean wasn’t sure if dressing up for family dinners like they did in the 50s was still a thing or not, but he figured he should at least change out of his auto shop clothes. Cas’ usual library attire was nice enough; today he had on dark blue jeans and a forest-green sweater. 

Their walk to Henry’s was quiet. 

Things didn’t stay quiet for long. As soon as Henry greeted the two of them at the door, Elizabeth had rushed over to introduce herself and insisted that they made themselves at home, practically pulling their coats off, herself. 

“Damn, son, you clean up nice,” Henry looked him up and down.

Dean blushed; he’d only changed into a pair of khakis and a long-sleeve, navy button-up. But, Henry had only seen him in a cowboy hat or covered from head to toe in grease. 

“And this must be Cas,” Henry held his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, as well. You have a lovely home,” Castiel smiled.

“You’re too kind,” Elizabeth gushed, ushering them into the flashy kitchen.

“Don’t tell me that’s apple pie I smell,” Dean grinned.

“You like apple pie?” Elizabeth asked.

“It’s only the greatest invention of all time,” Dean laughed. 

“You’re in for a treat, then. Liz’s pies are heavenly,” Henry added.

“Well, you’ll have to wait until after supper when it’s done baking. Until then, have a seat, and start dishing up.” Elizabeth began setting plates about the table before placing a plate of steaming roast beef and potatoes in the middle. 

“This is delicious, Elizabeth.” Cas said after finishing his first bite of roast beef. 

“Anytime, dear. I absolutely love to cook,” She smiled at him.

“So does Dean.”

“Oh does he now,” Elizabeth and Henry raised their eyebrows while Dean blushed down at his plate.

“Yes. He’s very good,” Cas said proudly, tossing an endearing glance at Dean. 

The two were oblivious to the others occupying the room, like always, while they exchanged their _looks_.

The four of them got through their dinner while keeping up a friendly conversation. Dean and Cas had to fib a little of it: how they met, and the general stuff about their past, but they tried to keep things as close to the truth as possible. 

Dean had happily helped himself to two pieces of pie, Elizabeth beaming as he complimented her with his mouth full of flaky crust and apples dripping with apple-cinnamon topping. Cas gulped his wine while he watched Dean’s tongue dart out to gather the syrupy flavoring. 

After dessert, Dean joined Elizabeth at the sink to help her with the dishes, while Cas and Henry moved their conversation into the living room. Elizabeth was already planning a “next time” to have Dean come help her cook for their “men.” She’d said that last part in a whisper, accompanied with a wink, which had Dean’s ears turning pink.

Once they’d finished with the dishes, Dean and Elizabeth joined their “men” in the living room. The “men” who’d suddenly gotten very quiet once the two of them entered the doorway. 

“We keepin’ secrets now?” Dean raised an eyebrow as he took a seat next to Cas on the loveseat.

“Just talkin’ shop, Dean,” Henry grinned. 

“You and I both know “talkin’ shop” refers to when we rave about Farrah Faucett and Catherine Bach.”

“And Robert Conrad, huh?” Henry winked at Dean. 

“He’s a handsome man; what can I say. I have eyes,” Dean rolled his. 

“He is quite a handsome fella,” Elizabeth added.

“Is he the Sundance Kid that you talk about a lot?” Cas asked.

“No that ‘s Robert Redford,” Dean said. “Both played cowboys, though.

“Oh, he’s cute too,” Elizabeth chimed in. 

“Yes, yes, there’s a lot of cute men,” Henry glanced at Dean, “...on tv.” He gave a quick look towards Cas, and Dean began blushing once more. 

“So you guys were really out here that whole time talking about pin-up girls and cowboys?” Dean questioned.

“Something like that,” Henry said, while Cas averted his eyes to anywhere but Dean. 

The four continued chatting for the next couple hours while enjoying multiple glasses of red wine. It was mostly nonsense chatter, but having friends here to converse about whatever felt nice. 

Dean didn’t usually drink wine, and for good reason. Wine had a very intense cuddling effect on him, and from where he was sitting, it had the same effect on Cas, whose entire side was pressed against his. Henry and Elizabeth made no comment; they sat in a similar manner.

“We should probably get heading home. This one definitely doesn’t need any more wine,” Dean said just before midnight, gesturing to Cas whose head was lolling onto his shoulder. 

“M’fine.” Cas attempted to prove this by standing up, and would have fallen back over if Dean’s chest hadn’t been there to catch him. 

“Here. Let me give you boys a ride home,” Henry said, getting up from his spot next to his wife. 

“Oh no, we can walk home just fine,” Dean replied. “You two have a great weekend. Thank you so much for the dinner.”

“Yes. It was delicious. G’night,” Cas grinned against Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean lifted his hand in a weak wave towards Henry and Elizabeth before placing it sturdily against the middle of Cas’ chest and leading him outside.

A light snow was falling softly, illuminated by the stale yellow street lights. Cas didn’t seem to mind the cold, though, pressed fully against Dean’s warm side. The walk home was less awkward than before. The two let themselves enjoy the momentary closeness, clouded by the alcohol, drenched in the darkness. 

Dean managed to get Cas’ coat and shoes off with little trouble when they got to their apartment. As soon as the two shuffled into the bedroom, Cas thrust his face a mere centimeters from Dean’s own, his glossy blues looking deep into his greens.

“Dean,” Cas whispered.

“Yeah, Cas?” 

Dean made a quick glance to Cas’ lips. They were shiny. And very enticing with the wine pleasantly buzzing through him. But probably not just the wine. 

“Gotta tell you a secret,” Cas grinned, his body wavering closer.

“Alright,” Dean released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “What is it?”

“C’mere,” Cas leaned in so that his lips just barely grazed the shell of Dean’s ear.

Dean shuddered, his hands tensing where they sat on Cas’ hips. 

“I really, really like wine,” Cas giggled, pressing his cheek against Dean’s.

“Really?” Dean huffed. “That was your big secret?”

Cas continued to laugh, his arms now wrapped around Dean’s shoulders.

“I know you think it’s so unmanly, but it makes me feel so warm inside, Dean,” a gummy smile flashed across Cas’ face. “And it doesn’t even taste bad! Why do manly-man drinks have to taste so bad?” Cas questioned.

It took Dean a moment to process that Cas asked him a question. He was hypnotized by Cas’ brows that had come together at the top of the scrunch his nose was making. Focused on the slight tilt of Cas’ head. Enthralled by the sparkling blue eyes mapping out constellations of Dean’s freckles.

“M’not sure, Cas.” Dean said. 

His tongue felt dry and heavy. And his hands suddenly felt graceless and bulky against Cas’ waist.

“Exactly.” Cas hummed, meeting Dean’s eyes again.

“We should get you to bed,” Dean said after a few long beats. A few more, even longer ones, passed. 

“Will you stay?” Cas whispered, his eyes searching Dean’s,

“Yeah.”

Cas nodded, relief flooding his face, and let Dean help him into his sleep clothes.

The two laid side by side, a substantial gap in between their bodies. The air around them was thick. Their breathing was shallow, both knowing the other was still awake. They stayed like that for a long while.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean turned to face Cas, his eyes incandescent in the murky darkness. 

Cas shuffled closer to Dean, so his knees bumped into Dean’s thigh. He placed a tentative hand on Dean’s chest, unable to meet the man’s eyes. 

“This morning,” Cas drew in a breath. “We could do that again if you wanted,” he finished softly.

It took Dean know time to realize what Cas was referring to. But that meant Cas had been awake. He knew that Dean knew, and that he left. But, Cas had enjoyed it? He must’ve if he was making this offer. But what would this mean for them? Would Cas even remember this is the morning? It’s not like _this_ was a crazy big deal. Well, for Dean it kinda was. Sex was one thing, but cuddling for the sake of simply being close to another? That was getting way too deep into the feelings that Dean typically tried to avoid. He had been longing for Cas’ touch all day, though, if he was being honest with himself. Why would this have to fuck things up between them? They’ve fought Heaven and Hell by each other’s side; they could, no doubt, deal with some slightly-more-than-bromantic feelings for eachother, right?

Dean realized he had been staring at Cas looking like he’d seen a ghost. Cas’ eyes had now locked on to his.

“Nevermind, it was stupid. Just forget I ever said anything,” Cas scooted away, and began to turn onto his other side.

“No,” Dean blurted out, hand shooting out to grab Cas’ hand that had been settled on his chest.

Cas' eyes grew wide as Dean realized what he’d done.

“C’mere.” Dean said softly, placing Cas’ hand back on his chest, holding his arm out to welcome Cas against him. 

It wasn’t awkward. As soon as Cas’ cheek pressed to Dean’s chest, and his arm curled around his shoulder, the air was calm and undisturbed. Dean’s arms wrapped easily around Cas’ body, like he’d done it for years. Within moments, they were both breathing long and heavy, welcomed by a peaceful sleep.

Saturday wasn’t awkward either; it was mostly shy smiles and lingering touches. Cas came to visit Dean during his shift at the bar around 1 am, when the only customers left were a few young men playing pool. Dean was alone since he agreed to Jenna’s request if he could handle things around 9. Something about a date with the handsome fella at the end of the bar. 

“Come on, Dean. Next time you wanna head in early for a little quality Cas-time, I’ll handle the bar, no questions asked,” Jenna whined. 

“Cas and I aren’t like that,” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, please. You’ve been practically glowing all day, and that devoted _look_ you guys shared when he came through on his way back from the grocery store? I’m not blind,” Jenna huffed. “Please, Dean. Look at him over there, staring at me with those captivating eyes. All the guys who come in here all old and creepy, and now I finally find a stud, and all I wanna do is get out a little early to sit on his face, but you--” 

“Alright fine; go get laid,” Dean flicked water on her face. “But he better be damn worth it.”

“I’m sure he will be,” Jenna leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re the best.”

“I’m well aware.”

The bar hadn’t been too busy after Jenna had left him. He’d had a steady stream of customers until just before Cas came down to give him a little company. 

The only wine they had in the bar was the cheap stuff they used for the occasional sangria. Dean placed the drink in front of Cas.

“You’ll like it, trust me.”

“I always trust you,” Cas replied, confused why that was even up for debate, before taking a sip.

His eyes went wide as the first taste of the sangria flooded his mouth.

“This is delicious, Dean. And it’s alcoholic?”

“Yup, that’s what makes it dangerous,” Dean laughed. “We’ll stick to one tonight, though, yeah?”

“That would probably be for the best,” Cas blushed, continuing to take small sips of his drink. 

The guys playing pool headed out at 2, and Dean began locking up the joint while Cas sat contentedly at the bar. 

“Will you teach me how to play pool?” Cas asked, fingering the brim of Dean’s cowboy hat he’d discarded after closing up.

“Like now?” Dean looked up from where he was finishing up at the register.

“Unless you’d rather go to bed,” Cas shrugged.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Just lemme finish up here real quick.” Dean pressed a few keys before closing the drawer shut. “Alright, let’s do this.”

They should not have done this.

Cas was really bad at pool. Couldn’t even hold the stick right. Things were beginning to turn into some cliche rom-com. No going back now. 

“Alright, so you wanna angle your body to be in line with the shot. Here, like this.”

Dean placed his hands firmly on Cas’ hips, maneuvering them slightly more perpendicular to the table. His back pressed snug against Dean’s chest. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’, gently setting his hands on Cas’ forearms, sliding them towards his hands, and guiding Cas to wrap his fingers around the pool cue. He tilted his head slightly, so that his lips were right up against Cas’ ear, almost touching. 

“Spread your legs a little further apart, about a shoulder’s width, with your back leg in line with the cue,” Dean said in an almost-whisper, nudging Cas’ foot back with his own. 

“Now, bend forward over the table, and line up the shot.”

This caused things to get _much_ worse. Before Dean had time to move with him, Cas pressed his ass right up against Dean, rubbing against the front of his jeans, which were now, instantaneously, getting dangerously tight.

“Now what?” Cas asked, his voice low.

“Now you relax,” Dean took in a deep breath, receding the pool cue slowly. “And take the shot.” 

Dean nudged Cas, and he fired the cue forward. The balls erupted around the table, the dissonance a sharp contrast to the soft murmur of their breathing.

“That’s good right?” Cas turned around quickly, their chests pressing against each other. 

Dean drew in a breath, glancing down at Cas’ bright smile, “yeah, Cas, that’s good.”

Cas was able to persuade Dean into “helping” him line up his shots a few more times, and then, promptly, wiped the floor with Dean.

“Beginner’s luck, I guess,” Cas shrugged, hiding a smirk.

“Beginner’s luck, my ass,” Dean grumbled. Cas probably still knew how to determine the exact angles he needed to make to sink each shot, from back in his angel days. No way the turnaround was that fast. Bastard.

* * *

Henry was relentless at work the next day.

“Come on, Dean. You can’t tell me there’s never been anything more than friendship between you and Cas?” 

The work had been slow, so Henry stood by to help Dean with small things while he worked on the station wagon. 

“Honest to God, nothing’s happened between us.”

“But that doesn’t mean you boys don’t _want_ anything to happen,” Henry said as more of a statement than a question. 

Dean sighed, wiping his hand against his brow.. 

“Even if one of us wanted something more, which I’m not saying we do, it doesn’t matter; probably wouldn’t lead to anything, anyway.”

“Why not?” 

“Cause, I don’t know,” Dean looked at Henry from his place under the hood. “Neither of us have much experience in healthy relationships, and this ain’t exactly the type of relationship to be readily normal outside our apartment. Hand me that spark plug, would ya?”

“Breckenridge is pretty accepting as far as queer relationships go,” Henry handed Dean the spark plug. “Sure, we ain’t as open as Hollywood, but we’re on the right track; give it a few years. You shouldn’t let anyone but _you_ determine your happiness, and, son, I’ve seen that happiness first hand when the two of you were over for dinner.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Dean busied himself in working on the car, a blush and a small smile working their way onto his face, and Henry mostly let him be for the rest of the week.

Margaret wasn’t much better. She could tell the moment Cas came into work that he was in a much better mood than he’d been on Friday.

“Let me guess, it was all just a misunderstanding, and you and your boy are just fine, hm?”

“I’m not sure exactly what you’re speculating by the two of us being ‘just fine,’ but yes, nothing is awkward between the two of us,” Cas said.

“Didn’t I tell you? Jus’ needed to give it some time.”

“Well, I still think I'm in way too far over my head,” Cas huffed.

“What makes you say that?”

“I’m not sure where our relationship stands, but I’m too scared things will change if I bring it up,” Cas sighed.

“What could change that’s got you so worried?”

“We’ve been holding each other at night, lingering more when we touch, but we don’t talk about it. Dean’s not too good at expressing how he’s feeling, and a lot of times he shuts down.”  
Margaret paused for a moment to think.

“I think it’s good that you aren’t pressuring him into an intimate conversation, but you’re giving him the opportunity if he chooses to take it. I think, again, you’re just going to have to give him some time.”

“I know, I just,” Cas looked to the ceiling. “I cannot think about anything except for how his lips might feel against mine, and it is starting to get somewhat frustrating.”

Margaret burst out laughing at that, causing Cas to chuckle along with her.

“Oh, hunny, just have a little patience; you’ll get your chance.”

* * *

The following Friday marked one month since they had been zapped into 1976. They had done well to adjust. They were starting to get comfortable in this time. Dean had even finished fixing up the station wagon. Their relationships with their coworkers began to grow, and this only made their longing for their relationships back in 2020 that much more arduous.

Dean cooked the two of them Cas’ favorite: burgers. Now, they sat on the loveseat, nodding along to Pink Floyd’s _Wish You Were Here_ album, and sipping on the bottle of Johnnie Walker that Henry had gifted to Dean. Damn, that man really made Dean miss Bobby.

“How do you think Jack is doing up in heaven, bearing the mark?” Cas asked, quietly. 

Dean took a long drink of whiskey, welcoming the burn in his throat. He stared down into the now empty glass.

“He’s a strong kid. Stronger than anyone we’ve ever come across. If anyone can handle the mark, it’s him,” Dean said. “Plus, he’s got a pretty strong father that he’s taken after,” Dean smiled at Cas. 

“Fath _ers_ ,” Cas corrected.

“Me, you, and Sammy did a pretty good job with him, didn’t we?”

“Yeah. We did.”

They didn’t say anything for a few moments.

“I miss him,” Cas whispered, fighting tears. “I miss them all so much.”

Dean rarely saw Cas so despondent. It made his chest ache even more than it already was for his family. He placed his hand overtop Cas’, gently stroking his thumb up and down the smooth skin.

“Me too.”

He could say he was sure they were looking for them, and that they’d be home before they knew it. But, they’d been saying that for the past month. Both of them were beginning to question the probability.

Cas turned his hand over to entwine with Dean’s, clutching it.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

Dean stared into Cas’ watery eyes.

“I’m not gonna leave you. No matter what happens. If we stay here for the rest of our lives. I won’t leave unless you ask me to,” Dean finally spoke. 

Cas’ free hand came to settle against Dean’s cheek, thumb swiping softly at the corner of his eye. Dean couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

“Nothing could ever coerce me to desire anything other than to be at your side, Dean Winchester.”

Dean released a dry sob as relief flooded through him.

“Okay,” he whispered.

After a few moments, Dean mirrored Cas, placing his hand on the man’s stubble, staring into his eyes, once again. Cas had moved closer at some point. Their faces were only a few inches apart, now. Only God, or whomever the hell was governing the universe at this point, could tell how long the two stayed like that: frozen in place.

It was Dean who leaned in first. Or, maybe it was Cas. Either way, the other did the same. Their lips brushed delicately against each other at first, testing the waters. Then, they dove. 

Cas was the first to add the pressure, urging Dean that he’d wanted this just as bad. No fireworks erupted between them, only a slight bump of noses and the low tune of _Shine On You Crazy Diamond._

Dean’s had a lot of kisses in his time: Gentle, slow, rough, chaste, sexy, but this? Nothing compared to how it felt to have his lips pressed against Cas’. The uncertainty, the hunger, the eagerness, the panic, the desperation, all of it, molded into something intoxicating. Cas _had_ to be feeling the same things, and if his enthusiasm was anything to go by, he most definitely was. 

They broke apart too soon, panting small puffs of air against each other’s lips. Forming any kind of coherent thought was completely out of the question, so the only rational option was dive right back in. 

Years of passion was finally expressed through the fervent movements of their lips, the gentle caress of their hands.

Things didn’t go further than a few minutes of heated kissing. This wasn’t some heat of the moment, need-to-tear-eachother’s-clothes-off, encounter. The sheer devotion they felt for one another was explained simply through the silent conversation between their lips.

Their night ended how it had been for the past week, curled up against each other under the covers, only this time, they traded shy kisses until sleep engulfed them.


	4. Chapter 4: The Time Traveler’s [Boyfriend]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains an instance of homophobic language.
> 
> "The Time Traveler’s Wife" - 2003 book

Dean was scared he’d dreamed everything when he woke up the following morning. That was until Cas’ eyes fluttered open, lips curving into a small smile. Unable to resist Cas’ plush, inviting mouth, he leaned in to steal a quick good-morning kiss, which turned into a fiery, morning make-out session. 

Once they finally willed themselves to untangle from each other, Dean got to work on cooking Cas breakfast, just like he always did. His bare feet padded against the cool tile as he moved around the kitchen. Cas observed silently, perched against the countertop, sipping his first cup of  coffee while Dean flipped the sizzling bacon. 

The bacon, however, ended up a bit crispy because  _ somebody _ decided to to leave their spot against the counter and wrap their arms around Dean’s waist and proceed to pepper kisses along the back of his neck. What was Dean supposed to do? Not turn around in his arms and capture the man’s lips? Absolutely out of the question. 

After breakfast came Dean’s worst nightmare. Well, not really his  _ worst _ nightmare, that was probably being thrown back in the pit. But, it was definitely something he tended to avoid. But this was Cas. And Cas was different. Cas meant the world to him. So he could buck up and get through the dreaded, ‘what are we?’ conversation. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want a relationship with Cas; he most certainly did. But having the conversation, and actually making things official, put so much more pressure on Dean to not fuck things up. And, every time he’d ever had this ‘talk’ with anyone, the whole thing inevitably went to shit in the end. Though, that probably would've happened anyway given the life they live.

He absolutely could  _ not _ fuck things up with Cas. He’d never forgive himself if he let that happen; he’d been pining after him for too damn long. He’d even willed himself to research bisexuality and come to terms with it for chrissakes. If he and Cas were gonna be more than friends, he was gonna commit, damn it. He was gonna be the best damn boyfriend Cas would ever have, and hopefully the  _ only _ one he’d ever have. 

Their ‘talk’ went surprisingly well. Cas, bless his heart, was incredibly patient while Dean took his time to figure out how to word his feelings. Cas stroked his hand while they sat cuddled up on the loveseat. They were gonna give it a shot. The real deal. Figure it out together. Unfortunately they had to figure things out while in a time period where dating someone of the same gender was pretty frowned upon in most places, so doing anything remotely romantic on these dates could be cause for one of them getting punched in the face. They’d have to be modest, but they were gonna make this work. 

And, as it turned out, it looked like their dating was gonna start sooner rather than later. While Dean went out for a few groceries after their conversation, he saw an ad for a double feature drive-in movie a few miles outside of town. And the best part about it was that  _ Citizen Kane  _ was playing first, followed by  _ Casablanca, _ which Dean wouldn’t admit to, but he absolutely adored  _ both _ of them. On his way back up to the apartment, he stopped by to see Jenna at the bar. It wasn’t that hard to get her to cover for him after he reminded her of that ‘quality Cas time’ she had mentioned before. She grumbled, but wished him the best, and that he had  _ better _ stop by after and tell her how it went.

“Where are you planning on taking me for a date?” Cas questioned when Dean got home.

“It’s a surprise, but I promise, you’re gonna love it. And, the best part, we won’t really have to keep things between us on the down low,” Dean grinned.

Cas took a few moments, his brows knit together, trying to figure out where Dean might be taking him.

“I will tell you that I’m taking you to our favorite diner first, and then I’ll drive us to the  _ real _ part of the date,” Dean winked. 

The rest of the morning, and afternoon, passed agonizingly slow for the both of them, anticipation steadily growing.

Dean filled the back of the station wagon with tons of pillows and blankets that he picked up, so the two of them could spread out and watch out the back window. He was gonna get as much cuddling and kisses out of Cas as he could snag on this public date. Besides, one of the best parts about movie dates is the making out part. He wasn’t about to let Cas miss out on a stereotypical movie date. 

The amount of restraint it took Dean to refrain from leaning across the booth at the diner, and placing a kiss on Cas’ barbeque-drenched lips, was unimaginable. Dean’s never been one for PDA, but of course he’d start dating the love of his life in a time where he couldn’t do it. He settled for playing an innocent game of footsie and making heart eyes at Cas throughout all of dinner. 

The two left the diner as the sun was getting low in the sky, shining through the peaks of the mountains. The look on Cas’ face only got more confused as Dean drove among the rows of cars in a large lot, parking with their backs to a massive screen.

“Dean, what is this?” 

“It’s a drive-in movie,” Dean grinned. “You buy snacks from the stand over there, stay in your car, and hook a speaker on to the car window, or tune in with FM radio. Figure, since it’s pretty cold out, we’ll use the radio.”

A smile began to play at Cas’ lips as he looked around at all the cars in the lot. 

“Come on, we’re gettin’ in the back.”

Dean escorted Cas into the back seat, his face lighting up when he saw the array of pillows and blankets that filled the back of the wagon. Dean launched onto the cushions, beckoning for Cas to do the same. The back window was the perfect height to lay back and peer at the screen. 

“You get comfy; I’ll go get us some snacks,” Dean smiled, placing a light peck to Cas’ lips. 

Dean hurried over to get them a couple of cokes, and a big bucket of popcorn, and made it back to the car just as the sun was beginning to set, signalling that the movies would start soon. 

Dean settled himself next to Cas, handing him a coke, and setting the popcorn in between them. Cas’ eyes were fixed on Dean.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Cas smiled.

He leaned in to plant a long kiss on Dean's lips, tongue darting out to run against his bottom lip, tasting butter from the few pieces of popcorn Dean had stolen on the walk back to the car. The popcorn which was almost knocked over in between then when Dean lifted a hand to run through Cas’ hair and deepen their kiss. He didn’t wanna know where Cas learned how to kiss so well, but damn was he enjoying it. 

The first movie started playing, and Dean had to force himself to pull his lips away from Cas’. It took him a few tries to actually stay away after being pulled back in for a few more teasing kisses. But eventually, they settled into watching the movie. About halfway through, the popcorn was moved to the side so Dean could lay against Cas’ chest. Dean hated to admit it, but with his belly full of popcorn and burger, and Cas carding fingers through his hair, he could barely keep his eyes open, even with the search for ‘Rosebud’ unfolding on the huge screen. This man had way too much power over him. 

Cas went to use the restroom during the break between movies, and when he got back to the car, Dean beckoned him in between his legs to lay back against his chest. Cas settled against him, bracketed by Dean’s thighs, and let his head tilt back onto Dean’s shoulder before grabbing the popcorn and setting it in his own lap. 

Dean’s hands rested on Cas’ stomach, moving occasionally to grab a few pieces of popcorn. Cas’ own hands often stayed placed over top of Dean’s.

About halfway through  _ Casablanca _ , during Ilsa and Rick’s passionate kiss, Cas could no longer resist the urge to tilt his head slightly to place his lips against the soft skin of Dean’s neck. He placed soft kisses along the side, trailing from just below his ear down to his collarbone. 

Dean ran his hand up Cas’ chest to cup his cheek, urging Cas’ lips to meet his own. With the angle of the kiss, Cas settled on winding his fingers through Dean’s that lay on his stomach, and gripping Dean’s thigh with his other. 

Cas may have started the kiss, but Dean had all the leverage; he was fully in control. 

“You’re very distracting,” Cas said when Dean pulled away after a few moments passed. 

Dean hummed, “I’m distracting? You’re the one who started kissing up and down my neck.” Dean leaned down to place his own kiss against Cas’ neck in return, chuckling against his skin. 

“I’ve seen many couples in movies do it; I wanted to see the appeal.” Cas replied.

“And, the verdict?” Dean asked.

“It’s quite enjoyable, even more so being on the receiving end,” Cas grinned.

The rest of  _ Casablanca _ passed, and the two continued to trade (mostly) quick kisses. As soon as they got back to the apartment, and made their way into their room, Cas was all over Dean, pressing him into the mattress. Not that Dean was complaining, he loved when his partners took control, and was seriously enjoying Cas being the body pressing him down. 

Soon after, Dean slowed things down a bit, easing Cas to lie next to him by pressing a gentle, but firm, hand against his chest. The two took their time mapping out each other’s mouths, figuring out what made each other gasp. 

Cas moved the hand that rested on Dean’s thigh to press against the bulge in Dean’s jeans.

“Woah, easy there, cowboy,” Dean jumped, his face deep red. “What’s the rush?”

Cas withdrew his hand as if he had been burned, embarrassment flooding his features. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I was under the impression that your dates typically ended in intercourse,” Cas looked down. “I thought that’s what you wanted,” he began to shy away from Dean. 

“No, Cas, hold on,” Dean quickly grabbed Cas’ hand and wound it together with his own, bringing his other hand to cup Cas’ cheek.

“Cas, those were not dates,” Dean stared deep into those sorrowful, sapphire eyes. “Those were meaningless one night stands. Cas, you’re so much more than that.”

“Really?” 

“Of course, Cas. I wouldn’t have spilled my heart out today if you didn’t mean that much to me; I want something real with you, Cas.”

“So do I, Dean,” Cas smiled.

“Don’t feel like you need to do anything just because you think I expect it. We can take things at our own pace. There is no rush at all. I’m perfectly fine just kissing and doing some minor groping right now; we’re both pretty new to this. Besides, it’s kind of fun that way, adds to the tension,” Dean winked. 

They took a moment simply focusing on each others’ faces.

“Can we go back to kissing, though?” Cas asked, sheepishly.

“Definitely.” Dean laughed, leaning in to capture Cas’ already swollen lips.

* * *

The following week went by fairly quickly. Margaret knew instantly that something had changed. 

“Guessin’ that kiss came sooner than you thought, huh?” She raised her eyebrows at Cas, and all he could do in response was blush. 

Dean was pretty sure Henry knew something had changed too, but he didn’t pry, only made side remarks about how much happier Dean looked these days. 

He was happier. Sure, they were still far away from home with no idea how, or when, they were gonna get back, but they had each other. Dean was in a healthy relationship for once. The only downside in their new relationship was that without having to hunt monsters every other day, they actually had time to have a dating life; only problem with that was, well, their dating life had to be kept behind closed doors for the most part. Dean had never really felt the urge to go out on sappy, romantic dates, but now that he couldn’t, damn did he wish he could. Cas deserved to experience every cliche romantic experience. For now, Dean would have to make do with what he had. That’s how they ended up sitting at their shabby dining room table, in the dark, surrounded by low-lit candles, eating spaghetti.

“You ever seen  _ Lady and the Tramp, _ ” Dean asked with a grin, mouth full of noodles.

Cas rolled his eyes, “No, but Metatron had, and he transferred the movie into my memory.”

“So you’re aware of the most romantic movie scene of all time then, right?”

“Are you referring to the dogs sharing a noodle of spaghetti, and then kissing in the middle?” Cas raised an eyebrow.

“Bingo.”

Dean picked up a long strand of spaghetti, placing one and in his mouth and gesturing for Cas to take the other end in his. Cas made a face, but complied, leaning forward to take the other end in his mouth. Dean, then, with extreme grace, slurped the spaghetti until his lips met Cas’, and they broke apart laughing before leaning in for a real kiss. 

Dean had gotten out of work a bit early, so he used the extra time to set up the dinner to surprise Cas when he got home. The bright smile that shone on Cas’ face when he walked in the door was all Dean needed to know he got this one right. 

Following dinner, they moved over to the couch and enjoyed a beer while getting through more of Dean’s records. Sometime around the end of side one of the Stones’,  _ It’s Only Rock ‘n Roll, _ album, they ended up horizontal on the loveseat. Cas lay under Dean, his hips bracketed by Dean’s knees. Cas’ hands made their way up his thighs to rest on the curve of his ass, urging his hips to start a slow grind. 

Throughout the week, their makeout sessions had gotten more and more intense, but never got further than the two of them stripping off their shirts. Soon after, they’d go to sleep, not wanting to rush anything with the upcoming obligation to get up for work early the next morning. But now, they had all the time in the world. And it was clear that they both wanted to take the next step, if their tented pants were any indication. 

Dean paused the passionate flow of his lips, hovering just above Cas’ face.

“Wanna take this to the bedroom?”

“Yeah,” Cas breathed out.

As soon as Dean shut the bedroom door, his mind raced with anxiety. They were really doing this. He knew this had been coming. Hell, he’d been itching for it ever since Cas pressed his hand against his dick, long before that too. But this wasn't some one night stand. What if he fucked things up? Sure, he’d watched gay porn before, but that shit was always exaggerated. He  _ needed  _ to make this good for Cas. 

Cas could practically see the gears turning in Dean’s brain, his hand still hovering over the door handle. He guided Dean’s hand to his waist, and brought the other up to his lips to place small kisses over the palm. 

Dean let Cas’ comfort wash over him. This was Cas. They were going to be alright; they always were. 

Dean pulled Cas in to capture his lips once more, parting them with his own, letting their tongues slide together. He allowed Cas to pull off his t-shirt and guide him to the bed. Cas sat on the edge, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of Dean’s jeans before sliding a hand behind Dean’s thigh, encouraging him to sink into his lap. 

Cas let his hands wander over the expanse of bare skin that was Dean’s chest. Freckles littered his torso, and he was determined to place his lips to all of them before the end of his days.

Dean carded his fingers through the hair at the nape of Cas’ neck, deepening the kiss, before running his hands up and down his chest. When Cas tilted his head slightly, Dean took the opportunity to trail kisses along his neck while fidgeting with the buttons at the top of his dress shirt. He popped the top button open, kissing his way down Cas’ chest as far as he could before he could bend no further. He resorted to sucking a dark mark into Cas’ neck while finishing with the shirt buttons before slipping the fabric off his shoulders. 

Cas let Dean steer them to lean against the headboard. While attempting not to break their frantic kisses, they were briefly interrupted by Cas’ head smacking against the wall.

“Shit, Cas, you okay?” Dean asked, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Yes. Come here.” Cas growled, pulling Dean in, back on top of him. 

Cas ran his hands up Dean’s chest, accidentally brushing over his nipple, eliciting a gasp and shiver from Dean. 

Cas did it again. And then again, this time with his tongue. Dean seemed surprised by this, letting out a small squeak. Cas smirked against Dean’s skin, wrapping his lips around the bud, grazing it slightly with his teeth. A quiet moan escaped Dean’s lips, and he jerked forward slightly in Cas’ lap. Cas soothed the irritated skin with the flat of his tongue before Dean dragged him back up to lick into his scorching mouth. 

Both of them were beginning to experience some mild discomfort from the tightness in their lower regions. Cas brushed his hands over the front of Dean’s jeans, hovering just above his belt. He broke the kiss to look into Dean’s green eyes, dark with desire, silently asking a question. Dean nodded, and Cas quickly undid Dean’s belt and helped him slip out of his jeans. 

Deans fingers scrambled with Cas’ pants, trying to get them both down to their boxers. When did he suddenly become a fumbling virgin again? Cas had only had sex once, and he was collected as could be, guiding Dean’s movements. He was supposed to be the one showing Cas the ropes. Where the hell did all his dexterity go?

When the two of them were finally down to just one thin layer between them, Dean pulled Cas into a searing kiss, regaining his courage. The roll of their hips was wonderful, pulling a delicious moan from deep in Cas’ throat as their dicks aligned almost perfectly. Cas could only challenge Dean’s movements by digging his fingers into the meat of Dean's thighs, and move them around to grip his ass to press him furthur into his lap. A small wet spot had formed on the front of Cas’ boxers, and Dean felt a strange urge to taste it.

After a few agonizing minutes, they pulled apart an inch, lips slick and swollen. Dean ran his hand gently over Cas’ stomach, until he reached low enough to finger his waistband.

He locked eyes with Cas, who responded by bucking his hips upward, an invitation for Dean to remove the fabric. Dean lifted Cas’ hips, pulling the elastic over the swell of his ass, before removing his own. Nothing remained between them. They were stripped bare as Dean’s soul when Cas first laid eyes on him in Hell. 

Cas’ dick lay heavy and swollen, dribbling precum onto his stomach. Dean’s own hung hot between his legs, throbbing, craving any form of contact.

Cas took the initiative, brushing his thumb over Dean’s hipbone, and pulling him down so that Dean’s cock dragged over his own. Hot flesh scraped against hot flesh, creating heavenly friction. 

Hot puffs of air mingled between them as they moved together, developing any kind of rhythm they could figure out. Before long, Dean wedged a hand between their bodies to wrap around the both of them, pumping slowly, before brushing his thumb over the head of Cas’ dick. He caught Cas’ eyes roll back, letting out a short whine as a shudder ran through his body. 

“D’--Dean…” Cas whimpered against Dean’s lips, clutching the hair at the nape of his neck.

Yup. No way they were lasting much longer, ‘specially if Cas kept making noises like that.

“I gotcha, Cas,” Dean purred, catching his lips, not really kissing, mostly just breathing the same air.

Dean set a rapid pace with his hand then. Cas’ hands scrambled along his body for any kind of purchase. Dean took his hand, that wasn’t otherwise occupied, and wound his fingers together with Cas’ above his head, jerking his hips against the other man’s as he did so. Dean was starting to lose his pace. His thighs began to shudder as he chased release, determined to bring Cas to the finish line before he did. 

It was a close call.

Cas began muttering a litany of “Dean”s, along with what were probably Enochian blasphemes. 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean groaned, hips stuttering out a few final thrusts against Cas.

He smashed his lips against Cas’, teeth knocking against teeth, as he felt Cas’ body got taut and wetness smear against his belly. He welcomed the wave of pleasure that washed over him.

They spent the next few moments with their foreheads pressed against each other, breathing heavy breaths into the small space between them, chests heaving. 

“That was…” Cas began, eyes wide, a smile forming at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah,” Dean hoarsely replied, chuckling, before flopping onto his back.

Cas startled Dean out of his post-orgasm haze by placing a gentle hand to his chest and a light press of lips to his own. He stared down at him for a few moments, neither of them wanting to break the adoring gaze. 

Dean wiped them down with a tissue and tossed it in the direction of the trash. They fell asleep tangled together--not just physically.

* * *

The two spent most of Saturday in bed, intermittent trips to the kitchen scattered throughout, to regenerate their drained energy, and one trip to the shower. Dean even tried his hand, well mouth, at a blow job, which was less gross than he anticipated. Thank god, though, that he had Jenna to give him some much needed tips later that day at work.

Sunday morning, Dean let Cas talk him into going to the marketplace, which only took a few extra kisses for Dean to comply.

The amount of restraint it took to refrain himself from planting one right to Cas’ lips when they stepped inside from the snow was almost unbearable. Cas’d been wanting to stop at the market ever since they got settled. The smile that took over his entire face was striking. For how small the town was, the place seemed to be packed. Looked like this was how everyone spent their Sunday mornings after church. 

Immediately inside the door was a Montreal-style bagel stand, which the two of them quickly learned that Montreal makes far superior bagels than every other place. They bought a dozen.

The ground floor had most of the permanent shops and stands, while upstairs was where vendors could set up on days they chose. The upstairs, no doubt, was the place to be in the summer when everyone’s gardens were doing great. Right now, it would be slim pickings in regards to produce. Willing to try his luck, Cas decided to take a look upstairs, unable to drag Dean with him. He was currently being hypnotized by the incredibly large section devoted to meats and cheeses. 

“Yeah, babe, I’ll catch up with you in a bit. Have fun.” Dean said, practically drooling at all his options. 

Cas rolled his eyes, hiding a smile at the pet name that fell so easily from Dean’s lips, and made his way up the stairs. 

Surprisingly enough, winter allowed for a pretty good amount of produce and flowers. The rest of the floor was filled with hand-knit hats and gloves and scarves, along with some stands for baked goods.

Cas, of course, bought him and Dean some winter attire: a forest green hat for himself, and a deep violet scarf for Dean. 

Cas then moved to observe the winter flowers when a familiar voice rang out.

“Cas, is that you?”

He turned on his heel to find Elizabeth waving at him from her little booth. She was selling pie.

“How’ve you been? What’s Dean up to this morning?” She asked excitedly.

“I’ve been well,” Cas smiled. “Dean’s down below, buying all the meats and cheeses. How are you?” 

“Doin’ well. Glad to see you stopped by the market.”

“It seems like it’s an event for the entire town,” Cas looked around.

“The atmosphere is wonderful, isn’t it? Everyone is so cordial.”

“How long have you been selling here?” Cas asked.

“Oh, ever since I was a little girl. My parents used to bring me to help pass out samples, and I took over as I grew up. Henry sometimes joins me, but he had to run out of town this morning.”

“That’s very sweet,” Cas smiled. “I see you’re selling those wonderful pies; I think I might have to grab a couple slices for Dean to try. How much?” Cas asked, pulling out his wallet.

“Oh, sweetie, no charge for friends and family,” Elizabeth said, pushing Cas’ money away. “Let’s see, Dean already tried apple, so how about you take him home a slice of pecan, peach, and cherry, and next time you boys are over for dinner, I’ll bake his favorite,” she winked.

“You’re too kind, Elizabeth. Thank you very much,” Cas said as Elizabeth was bagging up the slices. 

A young woman sauntered up next to Cas, a walk that Cas had witnessed Dean use at bars far too many times to pick up women in the past. 

“Hey, handsome,” She batted her lashes at him. “Haven’t seen you around here before. You stayin’ for awhile?” She purred.

Cas shot a nervous glance at Elizabeth, who was hiding an eye roll.

“I just moved to town. I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying.”

“Hm, well if you ever need someone to show you around, I’d be more than happy,” she placed her hand on Cas’ bicep.

“Come on, Alice, leave the poor guy alone,” Elizabeth huffed. “Truth be told, I’m not exactly sure you’re his type anyway,” she hid a smirk, causing a blush to form on Cas’ cheeks.

“What? I’m just bein’ friendly s’all. Besides, I seldom see such handsome men stopping up on this floor. Tells me they don’t mind getting a little in touch with their softer side,” she winked at him.

Cas gulped.

“So tell me…” She raised her eyebrows at him, questioning.

“Cas.”

“So tell me, Cas, whaddya say I show you around later tonight?”

“I’m actually not interested; I apologize.” He tried to say gently.

“What? You got a gal already?” She crossed her arms.

Cas’ eyes began to go wide as he stuttered around the right response.

“Wait? You queer or somethin’?” She asked, her face riddled with disgust.

Cas’ eyebrows shot up his forehead.

“Alice, people don’t need a reason to not be interested in you, darlin’. Leave the man be,” Elizabeth said, soft but firm. 

“Fine. Your loss,” Alice stomped away from the two of them.

“Thanks,” Cas said quietly.

“Don’t mind her. She’s mostly harmless,” Elizabeth paused. “Most people here are a little more progressive though, just so you know,” she added, shooting Cas a knowing look. 

“Good to know,” Cas looked down.

“If you want any recommendations, Sandra over at the end there’s got the most delicious tangerines and squash this time of year,” Elizabeth said, changing the subject.

“That sounds great; I’ll go check it out,” Cas smiled.

“You have a lovely rest of your day, Cas. Don’t be a stranger,” Elizabeth said, handing him the bag of pies.

Cas made his way around the top floor, picking up an abundance of winter fruits and vegetables that he would have to try to get Dean to eat. He wasn’t going to let him die of high cholesterol now that he could no longer clean his arteries with a simple touch. 

He couldn’t help his eyes from wandering to the holly and other decorative winter flowers. People were preparing for the Holidays. He wondered if Sam and Dean ever celebrated the Holidays together. 

He met Dean back downstairs to find his arms full of bags of meat and cheese that they would need to try out every day of the following week before they spoiled. He looked like a kid experiencing his first time in a candy store. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Dean, can we celebrate Christmas?”

Dean looked surprised for a minute, not responding.

“You wanna celebrate Christmas together?” Dean looked puzzled.

“Yes. I’ve never experienced it as a human,” Cas paused. “We don’t have to if you don’t--”

“No, yeah, let’s do it. Could be fun.” Dean offered a smile.

“Really?” Cas grinned. “Cause I saw some really nice winter flowers upstairs and we could get a tree and do other--”

“You really wanna do the whole nine don’t ya?” Dean chuckled. “Alright, lead me to the flowers.”

“So we obviously gotta get some holly and mistletoe,” Dean grabbed a few of each, waggling his eyebrows at Cas while holding up the mistletoe. 

Cas hid a shy smile.

“Pick whatever else you want, sweetheart.” Dean said, quickly turning red after realizing another pet name fell from his lips.

Cas grin grew along with his blush as he decided on some snowdrops and winter honeysuckle. Dean paid for the flowers, and carried them with pride. He soon noticed Elizabeth at her little booth, and made his way over. 

“Already back for more pie?” She grinned.

Dean turned on his heel to see Cas holding up a bag of the pie that she had given him.

“Oh you are saint, Elizabeth,” he said to her. 

“My pleasure,” She smiled. “You boys getting into the Holiday spirit, I see.”

“Could be fun,” Dean directed his adoring gaze towards Cas, who was looking right back at him.

“Well you boys stay warm out there. Henry and I always go to Dave’s tree farm a few miles outside of town; they’ve got the most beautiful trees.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Dean smiled.

“And on your way out, stop by the stand by the door for some hot chocolate; you won’t regret it.”

“Will do. Have a good one, Elizabeth,” Dean replied.

“You too, the both of you,” she waved as they made their way over to the stairs.

Cas made sure to wrap the purple scarf he’d picked out for Dean around his neck before they stepped out into the cold. He was unable to fuss as both his hands were full of their hot chocolates. Cas then covered his ears with his new hat and grabbed a hot chocolate from Dean.

“You look so adorable in that hat, Cas,” Dean leaned in close to Cas’ ear. “I’m kissin’ you as soon as we step inside our door.”

They made the walk back in record time, promptly warming each other up with chocolatey kisses.


	5. Chapter 5: Too Much Time on My Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Too Much Time on My Hands" - Styx, 1981

Henry got the information from Dean early Monday morning. He didn’t have to pry that much, Elizabeth had convinced him that there was most certainly something going on there. And Dean couldn’t do much to hide the blush that covered his cheeks. Henry seemed trustworthy, and fairly accepting if any of his previous comments were anything to go on. 

“Dean, I’m really happy for you,” Henry said. “He seems like he makes you really happy.”

“Yeah. He does,” Dean choked out.

And that was that. Easier than expected. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad when he got back home,  _ if  _ he got back home, to break the news to Sam. 

Thursday, the day before Christmas Eve, the shop closed up at noon. Dean thought this might be a good opportunity to pop into the sub shop down the road and surprise his boyfriend with lunch.  _ Boyfriend. _ Yeah, Cas was his boyfriend now. The sudden realization made him less terrified than he expected, and left him with a small smile on his face as he waited in line to pick up their subs. 

“Dean, hello! What a wonderful surprise; what brings you here today?” Margaret questioned as he stepped in the door to the library.

“Brought, uh, lunch for Cas,” he smiled, holding up the paper bag.

“That’s very sweet of you, Dean,” Cas said, emerging from the backroom and planting one right on his lips in front of Margaret, leaving Dean in a light daze.

“Well, I was just about to head out and pick something out for myself,” Margaret said, grabbing her purse. “You boys have fun,” she shot Cas a wink, and headed out of the library.

Dean raised his eyebrows at Cas, questioning.

“Oh, she knew the day after we kissed,” Cas said, taking the bag from Dean’s hands. “Actually she knew the moment I mentioned you,” he smirked. 

“Kinda feel like everyone knew but us,” Dean chuckled, taking a first bite of his sandwich.

“It does seem that way.”

“So what'd ya say after you get outta here we go get ourselves a tree and decorate the apartment?”

“That sounds very nice, Dean,” Cas smiled into his sandwich. 

The two men found themselves trudging through the snow at Dave’s tree farm, looking for that perfect tree to dump needles all over their carpet. 

“Dean, it seems that Dave sells tree skirts as well, if it bothers you that much,” Cas rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah, there goes another $25. Gotta love the Christmas spirit,” Dean grumbled, frowning.

The frown was quickly wiped from his mouth as Cas leaned over to place his lips against Dean’s cheek, squeezing his shoulder.

After lugging their  _ perfect _ tree up the stairs to their apartment, and covering the base with a snowflake-covered tree skirt, came the time for them to decorate. The majority of decorations Dean had picked out had come from the local thrift shop that he stopped at after sharing lunch with Cas. The rest of their stuff Cas had picked out from the market.

Dean had also found an old Christmas record at the thrift shop. So Dean got that started and spiked some eggnog for the two of them, and they started on the tree. 

It didn’t take the two long before the apartment looked cozy and ready for Christmas, if not a little odd-looking with all the colors in the living room. 

By the time the decorating was finished, along with many spiked eggnogs, the two retired to their bedroom, and soon dozed off tangled around one another. 

Most of the afternoon on Christmas Eve, Dean and Cas set out separately to find gifts for each other, after Dean whipped them up a plate of pancakes. The evening consisted of Dean cooking a maple glazed ham, along with an abundance of sides that Sam would never let him make without an eye roll and a lecture on cholesterol. He did, however, utilize some of the bell peppers they had picked up at the market...after stuffing them with cheese and sauce. 

The meal was just about finished by the time Cas came back from shopping. He joined him in the kitchen after holing up in the bedroom, and then placed in a colorfully wrapped box underneath the tree, next to the one that Dean had already wrapped. 

Cas padded up behind Dean, his fuzzy socks sliding against the tile, placing a kiss to the back of his neck, before taking a seat at the table that Dean was bringing the last of the food over to. 

Once the two couldn’t fit anything else in their stomachs, Dean wrapped up the leftovers and placed them in the fridge before taking a seat next to Cas on the loveseat and leaning over to capture his mouth.

A few moments passed of their tantalizing kisses before Cas broke away. 

“I think I failed to notice any dessert that you might have made….?” Cas questioned, his lips still brushing against Dean’s.

“Really, you’re still hungry?” Dean huffed. “After all that?”

“I mean if you didn’t prepare any dessert, I think there are other options that you can provide,” Cas stated slowly.

“Wow Cas, who knew you could be so incredibly sensuous,” Dean laughed against Cas’ lips. “Who the hell taught you dirty talk?”

“Well Margaret shared a few stories with me--”

“Alright, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Dean placed a hand on Cas’ chest. “No more sex advice from our coworkers, yeah?”

“Fine, but did it work? Are you feeling aroused yet?” Cas asked with a wink.

“Sure, let's give the credit of my horniness to your provocative word choice,” Dean said. “Now come on.”

Dean yanked him up, steadying him by the waist, before crashing their lips together and leading them into the bedroom.

* * *

Cas woke up first, for once. He took a moment to take in the contours of Dean's sleeping face. His eyelashes began to flutter under Cas’ gaze.

“Mmm, G’morning,” Dean grumbled.

“Good morning, Dean. Merry Christmas.” Cas rested his hand on Dean’s bare chest and placed a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Mm, yes it is,” Dean hummed, pulling him back in for a proper kiss. 

“Should we unwrap our presents?” Cas whispered into the small space between them.

“Cas, you’re already naked. What more is there to unwrap?” Dean chuckled, giving Cas’ backside a squeeze. 

When the two finally made it out of bed and onto the loveseat with a cup of coffee in hand, they sat with each other’s gift on their laps. 

Dean opened his first. He tore off the paper as recklessly as he did when he was four years old to reveal a new waffle maker.

“Is this really a gift for me, or more directed for yourself?” Dean laughed.

“I will admit that this gift will also probably bring me some joy,” Cas leaned in to kiss Dean, breaking it off quickly. “Hopefully bring me some joy in about 30 minutes, actually,” he asked, expectantly.

“I think we can make that happen,” Dean leaned in to capture Cas’ mouth once more. “Your turn. Open it.”

Cas, unlike Dean, took his time unwrapping the cardboard box that sat in his lap. Inside the box, sat an assortment of seeds for fruits, vegetables, herbs, and various flowers. Among the seed packets were a pair of floral gloves and gardening tools. 

“It’s not much, but I thought once spring comes along, if we’re still here, you could do something nice on the roof with this stuff,” Dean shrugged. “You know so much about the living things on the Earth, I thought you might like to grow and take care of some.” He had a deep blush across his face.

“Dean, I love it. I can’t wait for spring,” Cas stared down at the box in his hands, his eyes stinging at the edges. “It’s perfect.” 

Cas set the box on the ground and threw his arms around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him into a long hug before one of their stomachs began protesting, and Dean got up to get started on the Christmas waffle breakfast, finally realizing why Cas had picked up whipped cream a few days ago. Dean was a little disappointed that it didn’t have anything to do with expanding their bedroom activities.

* * *

The new year came around rather quickly after Christmas. They had a few days of work, and then another day off. They spent New Years Eve just the two of them. Dean splurged on a bottle of champagne, and they shared a kiss at midnight. A kiss that turned into a lot more kisses and they eventually ended up here: Dean on his back against the bedsheets with two of Cas’ fingers currently working their way into his ass. 

Cas must’ve done his research, and there was no way in hell Dean was going to ask how, but he definitely knew what he was doing. Sure, Dean had done this a few times in the showers or the privacy of his own room, but never on the receiving end with another person. But Cas was definitely doing something right if the sounds Dean was making had anything to go by, not that he would admit to making any of those sounds. 

Cas was alternating between placing kisses along his inner thighs and tracing his tongue up the length of his cock to distract him from the fingers moving inside him. Not that he needed any distraction. His own fingers paled in comparison to the long, thick, calloused fingers that Cas’ was so wonderfully pressing against his prostate with. No way he was gonna be able to not do this again. He was ruined. And Cas hadn’t even got his dick in there yet. 

And the way Cas took care of him. How on Earth was the guy keeping his cool. Dean was splayed across the bed, shaking from head to toe, precum dribbling all over his stomach, and Cas was knelt between Dean’s legs, still wearing his damn jeans, giving all his attention to worshipping Dean’s body. He had to have a little angel left in him for that amount of self control. 

“Cas, please,” Dean groaned.

“Please what, Dean?” Cas smirked against the pale, silky skin of Dean’s thigh, three fingers buried in his ass, brutally assaulting his prostate. 

“I’m ready. Please--Ah ohh,” Dean’s hips moved on their own accord, chasing Cas’ fingers. “Need your cock.”

Within a second, Cas withdrew his fingers from Dean and surged up to capture his lips. Nothing gentle about it. All teeth and tongue and force, and Dean couldn’t get enough of it. But he needed more. And why the hell did Cas still have his damn pants on. He quickly ran his hands down to Cas belt where he then yanked it out of its loops and threw it across the room. Now was not the time to tease. Not with Dean barely holding on as is. Finally, with Cas’ help, they tore off his pants and boxers in one swift move. 

Cas lay atop Dean. Nothing between them now. Their dicks trapped between their bellies, rubbing against each other. 

Dean reached over to the nightstand, and removed a condom from the box, tearing open the wrapper with his teeth. He reached forward to slowly roll the condom onto Cas’ cock before grabbing a pillow to shove under his hips. 

Cas, once again, brought his lips to Dean’s. Slower this time, but with the same amount of passion and heat as before. His cock nudged against Dean’s hole as they moved their hips, the head catching on the rim. 

“You’re sure?” Cas asked against his lips.

“Very. Please, Cas.”

With that, Cas pressed in slowly as Dean’s body opened up around him, sucking him in further. Dean let out a long breath as Cas bottomed out with a groan before stilling. 

“You okay?” Cas breathed.

“Yeah, jus’ gimme a sec,” Dean bit out.

Cas was a hell of a lot bigger than anything he’d messed around with in the past. Cas kissed down his face and neck and shoulders while Dean got used to the stretch. Once the pain subsided, he wiggled his hips under Cas’, eliciting a sharp gasp from the man above him. 

Cas’ head jerked up to meet Dean’s eyes. Dean nodded, and Cas began to move his hips. He started slow at first, barely pulling out before pushing back in. And then it came all at once when Cas pulled out almost all the way, just the tip of his dick still inside Dean, before slamming all the way back in, grazing Dean’s prostate as it went. Dean had no control over the noise that crawled it’s way out of his throat, scraping his hands down Cas’ back. 

They soon were able to find a rhythm, moving in tandem with each other, mouths pressed together, trading moans between them. 

There was no way Dean was going to last much longer with the way Cas’ dick was dragging against his prostate on every thrust, and judging by the way Cas’ hips kept stuttering, Cas was almost there too. 

“D--Dean,” Cas muttered.

“Yeah, Cas. Me too.” Dean lifted his hips to meet Cas’ with each thrust. 

Cas’ hips got even more uncoordinated, but still did the job on his prostate. Cas’ sweaty fingers gripped on Dean’s thighs, no doubt leaving distinct handprints. Cas’ chest brushed against Dean’s nipples, causing him to gasp and thrust his pelvis up.

Cas crashed his lips down to Dean’s and set a ruthless pace with his hips. Their tongues and bodies slid against each other as they chased their releases. It wasn’t long now. With one slow drag against Dean’s prostate, his orgasm hit him out of nowhere. Stifling his gasp against Cas’ shoulder, he spilled himself all over Cas’ torso. 

The tightening of Dean’s ass pushed Cas over the edge, breathing Dean’s name as he came. Dean gripped Cas’ hair as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm, before Cas collapsed on Dean’s chest. 

The two lay there, tangled in each other, breathing heavy. After a few minutes passed, Cas began trailing his lips along Dean’s collarbone, lazily kissing along his neck and shoulders. Dean lay there, his lips forming a small ‘o’, eyebrows raised slightly. 

“That was…” Dean trailed off.

“Oh! I’m sorry Dean, did I do something wrong?” Cas propped himself up on Dean’s chest, eyes worried. 

“What? No. Definitely not. You did, uh, you did really good, Cas,” Dean blushed.

“Oh. Thank you,” he hid a smile. “You were very good as well.”

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean laughed, pulling him back against him, neither caring about the mess between them.

* * *

The first day of the new year, the two had Henry and Elizabeth over for dinner. Dean cooked up some of the steaks he picked up at the market for the four of them, and Elizabeth, of course, brought over a cherry pie and a nice bottle of some red wine. Dean assumed it was nice; not like he was well versed in wine, but it looked somewhat expensive. They drank from plastic cups. 

It was nice. Being able to be affectionate with Cas around other people--his friends. The four of them chatted about everything and nothing throughout the evening. Henry looked as if he had something to say when they would mention their real lives, but he didn’t say anything, just gazed at them with a puzzled expression and a small smile on his face. 

They ended the evening cozied up on the couches while an episode of M*A*S*H played softly in the background of their conversation. Henry and Elizabeth excused themselves shortly after 11pm. They thanked the boys for the invite, and Henry said he would see Dean bright and early the next morning to get back to work for the new year.

As soon as Dean closed the door behind them, Cas dragged him back over to the couch and into his lap.

“Eager tonight, are we?” Dean chuckled against Cas’ lips. 

“You have no idea,” Cas growled, yanking Dean’s shirt untucked from his jeans.

“Oh, I think I have some idea,” Dean laughed, grinding down onto Cas’ growing erection, pulling a moan from Cas mouth.

Cas fingers fumbled with the buttons on Dean’s shirt, working to expose more skin of his neck to latch his mouth onto. Dean was so caught up in gripping tufts of Cas’ hair and forcing Cas’ lips back to his own, groaning as Cas jerked his hips against Dean’s, hands gripping his ass, that neither of them heard the brief knock and opening of the front door.

“Sorry, guys, left my wallet--Oh!” Henry stood in the doorway, eyes wide.

“Henry!” Dean stumbled out of Cas’ lap, almost falling onto his ass. “Sorry, yeah, wallet, okay,” Dean glanced around the room, face immediately turning a bright red.

Cas looked mildly dazed, lips swollen and hair sticking up in every direction. 

“Nope, my bad, sorry fellas,” Henry laughed, grabbing his wallet from the end table. “I’ll uh leave you boys to it then; seeya tomorrow Dean,” he said closing the door quickly behind him. 

Dean collapsed onto the couch next to Cas, not saying a word. He turned to look at Cas who was very obviously trying to contain his laughter.

“That is not funny!” Dean shouted, punching Cas in the shoulder. “My boss just saw me with a raging boner!” Though, he couldn’t contain his laughter, and joined in with Cas. 

“You still have a raging boner after that?” Cas asked, incredulously.

“Well not now!” Dean laughed. 

Cas quickly got very serious, “That’s alright, Dean, we still have the rest of the night,” he said, guiding his lips to Dean’s.

“You’re not the one who has to get up at the asscrack of dawn!” Dean laughed.

“I guess we’ll have to do what we have to do,” Cas grinned.


	6. Chapter 6: As Time Goes By

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "As Time Goes By" - Herman Hupfeld, 1931

_ January, 1977 _

* * *

After the new year, the two of them went back to work. Henry gave Dean a little shit for what he saw when he walked in on them, but it was all jokes. Dean enjoyed catching up with Jenna, who he didn’t get to see all that often these days. She was overjoyed when she found out he and Cas had...taken the next step. Why she was so excited about Dean getting fucked in the ass, he may never know, but apparently it was enough that she required Dean to bring Cas down for celebratory shots. It was nice having a friend closer to their age, not that Henry, Elizabeth, and Margaret were by any means bad, but Jenna was a little more on their level. 

When they had a couple days off, Jenna dragged the two of them to the slopes, something she apparently did every year. The two of them were finally going to experience the mountains that had been surrounding them for the past four months. Dean hadn’t been on skis since he was probably nine years old, and it showed. Somehow Cas seemed to be falling less than him. By the end of the long weekend they’d gotten their fair share of Jenna’s teasing, but had gotten quite a bit better than they had when they started. And they got to spend each evening cuddled up by the fire playing card games and drinking far too much hot chocolate. 

After their trip, Jenna spent more evenings at the apartment after her shifts at the bar, just enjoying each other's company.

* * *

_ February, 1977 _

The only special thing about February was Valentine's day. Dean had absolutely no interest in participating in that commercial holiday, but he owed it to Cas, didn’t he? So that’s how he ended up getting roped in, by Jenna of course, to take the day off work, set up candles around the dining room, buy a dozen roses, and fling rose petals all over their nicely-made bed that Dean would have to clean up later. 

She’d shown up to his apartment with a giant paper bag in one arm and a massive bottle of red wine in her other hand. 

In the bag were a bunch of heart-shaped balloons, red and pink streamers, and a huge heart-shaped cookie.

“Alright, what the hell is the catch?” Dean grimaced, looking at all the supplies.

“Why would there be a catch, Dean? Can’t I just do something nice because I care about your relationship?” She giggled.

Dean merely raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine. I would really like to go to a bar tomorrow night to pick up a sad, post-valentine’s day, dreamboat, and might need you to take my shift.”

“I didn’t even ask you to get all this crap!” Dean exclaimed.

“You need to be bringing you A-game, Dean. We both know Cas could do waaaay better, but for some reason, he’s with you,” she winked at him. 

Dean rolled his eyes, “Fine, but just one night.”

“Thank you!” She threw her arms around his neck, planting a noisy kiss to his cheek before he pushed her off.

“Hey, I’m off the market. Keep your hands to yourself, and help me with this pizza,” he laughed.

“Only as long as we make it heart shaped. If nobody is gonna give me a cheesy Valentine’s day, then I’m sure as hell gonna make sure our sweet Cas gets one.”

The whole affair turned out surprisingly well. Jenna texted Dean when Cas was on his way up, so he could light the candles and grab hold of the roses for when Cas walked in. She’d helped him pick out a light blue button up, and a pair of jeans that ‘made his ass striking,’ apparently.

He met Cas as soon as he walked in the doorway, eyes darting all around the dim room at the balloons and candles, finally landing on Dean. 

“I know it’s super cheesy and dumb, but happy Valentine’s day, Cas. I’m really glad to be spending it with you,” Dean held out the bouquet of roses to Cas. 

Cas took the roses from Dean’s hands, placing them on the table before putting his hands on both sides of Dean’s face and greeting him with a soft press of lips that Dean greedily responded to.

“You look very handsome, Dean,” Cas stated, rubbing his hands down Dean’s back.

“Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself,” he replied, sheepishly. “Come here. Sit.” He pulled out one of the chairs for Cas to take a seat before placing the pizza on the table and pouring them a glass of the cheap wine Jenna had gotten for them. 

Cas held his hand the entire dinner before pulling him into their bedroom. They ate the cookie for breakfast, but not before Dean’s, ‘son of a bitch!’, when he noticed what happened to bedsheets when roses and sweat were ground into them. 

* * *

_ March, 1977 _

Henry eventually found out the truth. They’d been working on some Ford truck, talking casually about baseball--The Cubs, specifically.

“You shoulda seen me and my brother four years back when they finally won the World Series for the first time in over 100 years,” Dean had said, not even realizing his mistake. 

Henry looked up from the hood of the truck, eyebrows pursed together.

“Dean, The Cubs haven’t won the World Series since 1908,” Henry looked at Dean with a puzzled look.

“Oh, right,” Dean mumbled, realizing they were most certainly NOT talking about The Cubs’ win in 2016. “Must’ve been thinkin’ about another team,” he shrugged.

“Dean, you’re so full of shit,” Henry chuckled. “And it’s funny because you think you’re foolin’ everyone. But not me. After work, we’re gonna go for a drink, and you’re gonna spill.”

And that was that. Dean knew better than to argue when Henry used that tone. They ended up just outside of town in a grimey, hole-in the wall bar, not so different from his typical dive in the present, or the future, or the past, or whatever it was to him. Where he used to be. 

That’s where he explained everything. How he and Cas are from 2020, how he and his family hunt monsters and ghosts and deities and everything in between, and basically the rest of his life story. Henry sat on the barstool for the entire three hours, listening intently, nodding his head, actually looking like he believed every word Dean was saying. And maybe he did. He didn’t say anything about Dean being crazy, just took in the information like it was any other story.

“You must really miss your brother,” he stated, when Dean took a long, shaky breath at the end of his explanation.

“Yeah,” Dean choked out. “Yeah, I really do.”

* * *

_ April, 1977 _

April was a lot. Not in a bad way, actually entirely the opposite. Definitely the best Dean’d ever felt in all the time they’d been stuck in the 70s, probably the best he'd ever felt in his entire life. 

Realization hit. They were probably going to be stuck here forever. And if he was really gonna commit to that, he was gonna commit to Cas, and make him  _ know _ . He was gonna do something with this opportunity. 

With some help from Henry, he used the small smelter they had at the shop to melt down the angel bullet they’d found that day they were doing inventory. He melted down a regular iron bullet along with it. Mixing their pasts together. With the metal, he fashioned two identical rings. They were a simple, silver band with a small blue glow along the edges, probably from the angel bullet. 

He kept them in his pocket every day for a week before the right time presented itself. 

April 16th, a Saturday, after breakfast and a shower, Dean laid across the couch with his head in Cas’ lap while Cas read whatever book he was reading this week, carding his fingers through Dean’s hair. 

Normally, in this situation, Dean would be out like a light. But today, there was no way he was about to fall asleep. Not with the love of his life staring at the pages of a book with a deep look of concentration across his features. Not with him glancing down at Dean every few pages to smile softly at him. Not with two rings burning a hole in his pocket as the minutes ticked by. He abruptly sat up, turning to face Cas who closed his book and looked at him, concerned. 

“Dean, what is it?”

Dean stared into Cas’ searching eyes for a moment before placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning in to plant a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Okay, here goes,” Dean took a deep breath and cleared his throat, taking Cas’ hand in his own. 

“I don’t know how long we are going to be here, or if we are ever going to make it back, but I do know that I’m so glad that I’m here with you and that I get to love you like this,” Dean stuttered.

Cas drew in a breath at Dean’s words, gripping his hand tighter.

“And I  _ do _ love you, Cas. In a way I never thought was possible, but here we are. And I know we can’t do anything, like traditional or whatever, but…” Dean reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out the rings. “I love you. And I don’t want to be with anyone else except you, in whatever time we are in.” 

Cas’ mouth had parted slightly, realizing where this conversation was going. His breath hitched and eyes grew wide.

“So, I was hoping that you would accept this ring as a representation of my devotion to you.”

Dean held his breath, holding one of the rings towards Cas, forcing himself not to avert his eyes to anywhere that wasn’t Cas’, even though all he wanted to do was for the couch to suck him into a black hole. 

“Dean, I…” 

Cas couldn’t seem to find the right thing to say. Probably trying to figure out the nicest way to let Dean down easy. But then his face broke out into a huge grin, and he pulled Dean in close for a deep kiss, putting all his words into the language that Dean knew best, breaking it only for a second to whisper against Dean’s lips.

“I love more than you could ever know, Dean.” Another kiss. “I’d be honored to wear this ring.”

He held out his left hand so Dean could slide the ring up his finger, before taking the other ring and doing the same to Dean. There was no way to contain the smile blooming on Dean’s face, not even with Cas’ many kisses. Wherever they were,  _ whenever _ they were, they’d get through it together.

Elizabeth insisted on having a small get-together for them to say their vows and be with friends. So that’s how they ended up standing in Henry and Elizabeth’s living room, wearing their best clothes, and pouring their hearts out to each other, which  _ definitely _ didn’t leave Dean standing in front of everyone, crying like a baby. When their vows were finished, Cas wiped Dean’s cheeks with his thumbs and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. Elizabeth clapped as Henry hooted, and Margaret dabbed a tissue at her face while Jenna hid a smile in her glass of wine. 

They danced and ate and drank with their friends until the sun was long gone, before stumbling back to their apartment, hand in hand. 

After their celebratory activities, the two lay breathless next to each other. 

“You really know how to tear a mind-blowing orgasm out of a guy, Cas,” Dean grinned.

“Wow, Dean, so romantic,” Cas rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, like you can do better,” Dean mumbled against Cas’ neck.

Cas turned on his side to face Dean, wrapping an arm against his waist, bringing their faces together, so their noses were barely brushing. 

“Dean Winchester, Sirius A, the most luminous star in the entire galaxy, is dull in comparison to the brilliance of your soul. Even human, I will never forget the moment it drew me to you in Hell. I will never forget the sensation I felt when it melded with my grace. Nothing will ever compare to the thrill that spread through my being. However, being with you like this comes very close,” Cas smiled.

Dean’s breath hitched, and it seemed he was unable to draw his eyes away from Cas.

“K, well we can’t all be Shakespeare,” Dean grumbled as he hid his blush in Cas’ chest, tangling their legs together. 

Cas placed a kiss to the top of Dean’s,  _ his husband’s,  _ head, before leaning over to turn out their light.

* * *

_ May, 1977 _

May was both exciting and mournful. The two toasted to Sam on May 2nd, his birthday, and Dean told Cas all about how they would celebrate Sam’s birthday when they were kids, mostly involving Dean being something of a delinquent, but his heart had always been in the right place. They ended the night, quietly, Cas holding Dean close. 

May 25 was the premiere of  _ Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope,  _ the beginning of an era. The beginning of Dean’s first gay thoughts: Harrison Ford. Dean grabbed tickets for him and Cas the day they went on sale, knowing they’d be sold out quickly. 

Cas had  _ seen _ the Star Wars movies, secondhand, when Metatron oujied all popular media in his mind, but never sat down to watch them. Dean referred to this as the greatest tragedy of the era, to which Cas countered with Israel's mass killing of the Canaanites, and the ‘Final Solution’. Cas, however, could not say ‘no’ to anything Dean asked of him, so that’s how he found himself standing in a line of fans at the cinema a street away from their house on opening night, wearing, of course, a Han Solo shirt and vest. 

Cas would do this a thousand times over if it meant he got to see the smile that spread across Dean’s face throughout the entire duration of the film. It didn’t hurt that Dean had some really repressed feelings about Han Solo from his childhood, and he was more than happy to keep the vest and let Dean play out his fantasies that evening after they got home. 

* * *

_ June, 1977 _

They had their first fight in June. Dean screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks. Wanting more than anything else to drive to Kansas and split his parents up. Make sure he and Sam were never born. Make sure his mother never died, and his father never lost his humanity. 

“Dean, think about all the people you and your brother saved; think about the apocalypse that you two avoided, multiple times; think about me, damn it!” Cas’ voice cracked.

Dean’s expression faltered for a moment to something more pained. He lowered his voice. 

“Cas, you know that’s not what this is about,” he stared at his feet. 

“Then what is it about Dean?” Cas questioned, his voice still raised, as he stepped further into Dean’s personal space. “You’re willing to damn all those innocent people, let the world die, and let me wither away as an emotionless soldier in Heaven, to spare the lives of two people who are at peace? You were able to get to know your mother; you got to spend a few precious years with her. But, Dean, she is at peace in Heaven now, with your father. They are happy, and proud of all you and Sam have accomplished.”

“How am I supposed to just sit here, on that November 2nd, knowing that my mother is pinned to the ceiling, and Azazel is bleeding into Sammy’s mouth?” Dean whispered in the small space between them.

“I’m going to be right by your side, helping you through it,” Cas said softly, placing his hand against Dean’s cheek. “For anything you need, I’ll be right there, always.”

Dean collapsed against Cas’ chest, a sob erupting into Cas’ neck. Cas held him as he shook, stroking his fingers through his hair, and placed soft kisses against the top of his head.

*****

On the 26th, they drove to Indiannapolis to see Elvis’ last concert; he would pass away in the upcoming August. They laughed, and cried, and let the vocal waves of the King of Rock and Roll wash over them, along with the 18,000 other people. They didn’t slow dance, or kiss, along with all the other couples during “Can’t Help Falling in Love”--his final performance. Dean threw a casual arm across Cas’ shoulders, and swayed along with the beat while trading affectionate looks with Cas. 

When the two got back to their apartment late into the next evening, Dean stopped Cas from retiring to bed. He sorted through his vinyls, finding the one he was looking for, and placed it on the record player. He made his way back to where Cas was standing, tiredly, in the living room, and wrapped his arms around his shoulders as the first few notes started to ring out. They shared the song together, properly this time: lovers held in each other’s arms.

* * *

_ July, 1977 _

The 4th of July was spent in Henry and Elizabeth’s backyard. Dean and Henry stood over the grill, flipping burgers, while Cas and Elizabeth sat in the shade, sipping iced tea with lemon. 

Cas couldn’t help but admire Dean, as he stood there, under the hot sun. He munched on a slice of watermelon as he chatted with Henry. His freckles were more prominent than Cas had ever witnessed on him; he wanted to kiss each and every one of them. 

Henry made his way to sit next to Elizabeth.

“I think he can handle himself over there,” Henry smiled, wrapping his arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Figured I’d come sit with my lovely gal.”

Cas watched the soft looks they shared before getting up to stand next to Dean as he worked at the grill. They would have to get one of these. Dean was definitely in his element here. He wrapped his arm loosely around Dean’s hips and leaned in for a quick press of his lips to Dean’s, tongue darting out to taste the watermelon still lingering in his mouth. 

The four enjoyed their burgers, corn, watermelon, and potato salad, as the sun dropped lower into the sky. With full bellies, they sat on the grass while fireworks scattered across the sky, falling over the mountains. 

Sitting on the scratchy grass, under the shimmering colors, with his friends and the love of his life, made Dean’s heart flutter.  _ He would never have had any of this without that damn pocket watch. _

“Dean, are you alright?” Cas asked.

He hadn’t realized tears began to run down his cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Dean smiled, pulling Cas in for a comforting kiss. 

*****

Not a week later, Dean shifted closer to Cas’ warmth, suddenly feeling cold during the night. Something was different.  _ Maybe they’d kicked the blanket off at some point.  _ Dean’s eyes fluttered open, and he lifted his cheek off from Cas’ shoulder. 

He was met with stale lamplight, and the gazes of Rowena, Sam, Jack, and Eileen staring down at him and Cas cuddled up together on his old bed, in nothing but their boxers.


	7. Chapter 7: Back to the Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains references to OC (minor characters) deaths. Also please bear with me, time travel is super hard to explain. 
> 
> "Back to the Future" - 1981 movie

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelped, yanking the comforter up from the side to try to shield him and Cas’ nudity. 

“Wow. Was definitely not expecting that,” Eileen said, mirroring the open-mouthed faces of the rest of them, except for Rowena.

“Oh please, this has been a long time coming. Congratulations boys,” Rowena smirked, standing above a smoking bowl of ingredients at Dean’s desk.

“Hnnggh, what’s goin’ on,” Cas grumbled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, quickly freezing his movements when he realized where they were. 

“What the hell happened, guys?” Sam said, clearing his throat.

“You tell us!” Dean snapped, eyes darting around the room, overcome with the entire emotional spectrum. 

“Why don’t we let the lads get dressed, and then come back in and get everything sorted, aye?” Rowena said, ushering the three of them into the hallway. 

The door clicked shut, and Dean only stared at it.

“Dean, are you alright?” Cas asked, placing a hand in between his shoulder blades. 

“I…” Dean paused, “I got no idea.” He slowly closed his mouth, getting up to grab the two of them some jeans and tees. 

After throwing on some clothes, Dean opened the door to pull Sam in for a bone-crushing hug, while Cas pulled Jack to his chest, wrapping his arms around the kid. 

“Dean, what happened to you guys?” Sam asked, pulling away from Dean, who was struggling to hold back tears. 

“Same, what is the date?” Cas questioned.

“November 18.”

“2020?” Dean questioned.

“Yes, 2020. You were only gone for eight days.”

Dean and Cas traded wide-eyed glances, before taking a seat at the end of Dean’s bed. Jack settled into the chair, while the rest of them leaned against the desk or the wall, ready to hear an explanation. 

“Sam, we were gone for eight months,” Cas stated, while Dean stared blankly at the wall. 

“Eight months? What did you guys do? How’d you guys live?” Sam shot off questions. 

“One thing at a time, Sam.” Dean muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Somehow we got zapped to 1976--”

“With this, right?” Jack asked, holding up the rusty, old pocket watch.

“Jack, be careful with that!” Cas’ eyes went wide.

“It’s alright. I can’t sense any more magic within this,” he said, turning it over in his hands.

“I still haven’t been able to discern what kind of spell was used on it to transport you two to a different time. It’s not one I’ve ever seen,” Rowena said, confused. 

“Probably some Men of Letters experiment gone wrong,” Eileen replied, referring to the note that had been with the watch: ‘Failed attempt. Do NOT use.’

“Yeah, I got no clue, but somehow that’s where we ended up,” Dean sighed. “Couldn’t get into the bunker. Couldn’t stay in Kansas. Ended up in Breckenridge, Colorado for the past eight months… a lot’s happened,” he said the last part in whisper.

“Yeah, I think we could see that based on the state you boys were in when we hauled you back,” Rowena laughed. 

Dean chuckled, placing a hand on Cas’ knee, giving him a soft look.

“Hold up,” Sam cut in. “Are those wedding rings?” Sam asked, shocked.

“Yeah,” Dean chuckled. “Like I said, lot’s happened. 

“How did you guys bring us back?” Cas questioned, giving Dean’s hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“With this,” Sam held up two envelopes, both obviously very old. One had Sam’s name scrawled across it, while the other had Dean’s. 

Sam handed both to Dean. On top was Sam’s letter, already out of the envelope:

_ Sam, _

_ My name is Henry Morrison. I am writing to you because I believe this letter to be  _ _ crucial in getting your brother back to you. Dean has described to me the life that you two live, and as impossible as it sounded, it just kind of made sense. _

_ All I know is that your brother and Cas have completely disappeared from this town, all belongings left behind, on JULY 10, 1977. If I understand time travel at all, which I don’t, but your brother attempted an explanation, you need to know that information to get him back. I believe I am the one who gave you that information, in this letter. I may be completely wrong, as just writing this letter is giving me a headache, but I hope I help bring him back to you. He and Cas are located in Breckenridge, Colorado, above the Colt Lightning Counter. _

_ I know that your brother and friend went missing on November 10, 2020. I have asked that this letter be delivered to you on November 18, 2020, so that I may, selfishly, ensure that I still get the pleasure of meeting them. I hope this letter finds you. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Henry Morrison _

Dean looked back up to Sam, stunned, after finishing the letter.

“We were able to, mostly thanks to Rowena, figure out a spell based on that date and location to bring you back,” Sam explained. “Jack made it all possible thanks to a bit of his grace to power up the spell to bring you both back all this way.”

“Don’t worry. I’m alright,” Jack smiled, knowing Cas and Dean would worry after hearing about his grace donation. 

Dean and Cas both look relieved, but still incredibly confused about the whole affair.

“It’s best not to think too hard about it,” Eileen laughed, seeing their confused expressions. “We’re just glad you two are home.”

“So are we,” Cas smiled, as Dean began opening the envelope addressed to him.

_ Dean, _

_ I really hope you and Cas made it back home, safe. If all you said was true, you are more  _ _ than necessary to the wellbeing of the world in the future. I do apologize for not having this letter sent prior to November 10, 2020; I couldn’t jeopardize our meeting.  _

_ You and Cas have made an incredible impact on the lives of me, Elizabeth, Margaret, and Jenna. I know it is dangerous to mess with time, but I told them what you told me. They were worried sick about you two. You two brought us all together, and I thank you immensely for this wonderful family. I hope the two of you have the opportunity to love freely and openly back home. You two are made for one another, like myself and my love, Elizabeth. That is hard to come by; don’t screw it up. _

_ I thought you might want to remember your friends and time you spent with us. I found a few photos in your wallet, that I hope survived well enough to get back to you. Those are in this envelope. I will miss your company and hard work. Thank you for everything.  _

_ Look me up when you make it back, and pay me a visit if I’m still around. _

_ Your friend, _

_ Henry _

Inside the envelope, Dean found a handful of old photographs, slightly worn. The first one was of Jenna and Dean both dressed in their cowboy-themed bar getups. The next was Cas with his arm wrapped around Margaret, both with gummy smiles plastered on their faces. Another was of Cas, Dean, Henry, and Elizabeth, arms wrapped around each other, teary smiles, on their ‘wedding’ day. The last, a shot of Dean and Cas gazing into each other’s eyes as they spoke their vows, softly smiling. 

Dean choked back tears that threatened to spill over. Cas wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him against his chest, placing a kiss to the side of his head. Tears having spilled now, Dean looked up at his family around him, smiling, he passed them the photos.

The rest of the evening was spent in the library, sipping beers, while Dean and Cas told their family everything about their last eight months. Everything except the sexy parts, which Sam begged them to keep to themselves. 

Sam and Dean were the last ones awake, around the table that night, well middle of the night, now practically morning. Dean had missed this. Sharing a beer with his brother. Just the two of them.

“So you and Cas, huh?” Sam smiled around the lip of his bottle.

Dean hid a blush, “Yeah. You surprised?”

“Not really,” Sam chuckled. “More surprised that you two got your heads outta your asses than anything.”

“Shut up,” Dean rolled his eyes.

“I really am happy for you guys, though. You’re good for each other.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

*****

The Impala’s roar faded as Dean slowed to a stop outside the retirement home on the outskirts of Breckenridge. Dean took a deep breath, knuckles turning white around the steering wheel. He met his gaze with Cas, who gave him a slight nod, before getting out of the car.

“Henry, you have visitors,” the nurse gave a small knock to his door.

Henry averted his eyes from the window that he was staring out of and practically jumped out of his chair, eyes gleaming as a smile spread across his face. 

“I’d hoped I’d live long enough to see you boys again,” Henry threw his arms around Dean, his body frail, yet there was strength in his grasp still. He moved away from Dean to give a greeting hug to Cas before sitting down in his chair, gesturing for them to sit across from him. 

“It’s so good to see you, Henry,” Dean grinned. “I know it’s only been a few days for me, but I look forward to hearing about the rest of your life.”

“A long and nearly perfect one it has been,” Henry started. 

After the boys disappeared, Henry and Elizabeth would have Jenna and Margaret over once a week for dinner. Margaret went peacefully in March of 1984; the library now named after her. Jenna had a daughter a couple years after the boys left. She named her Margaret (Margie) Elizabeth, and she now runs the bar by herself, following her mother’s passing four years ago. She visits Henry almost every week. Elizabeth had passed almost 16 years ago--the love of his life. The two met when they were 15; this was the longest he’d ever been without her. He couldn’t wait to reunite with her soon. 

“Henry, I can’t tell you how much you impacted us. You welcomed us in, when we were almost completely alone. I can’t thank you enough for that, and for helping to get us home,” Dean said, eyes brimming with tears.

Henry’s eyes crinkled. “You boys impacted our lives more than you know. We never had kids. Too scared to. You brought together a family, and now a lovely young woman comes to visit me every week. I can’t even begin to tell you how much Elizabeth loved spoiling Margie. I’m so glad we were able to meet you two.”

Dean looked like he was going to be unable to form a sentence, so Cas placed a reassuring hand on his knee.

“As are we to have met you wonderful people. Thank you, Henry,” Cas grasped his hand. 

*****

After visiting the retirement home, Cas and Dean stopped for three bouquets of flowers before making their way to the cemetery. Cas gripped Dean’s hand tight as they made their rounds, paying their respects to their companions of the past. 

Dean, shaking, laid down a bouquet on Jenna’s gravesite. There were some flowers already laid down, withering in the snow, most likely put there by her daughter. Dean placed his hand to rest atop the stone.

“A guy couldn’t have asked for a better friend than you. I owe you so much, and I am so proud of you and the woman I hear you have become. Thank you,” Dean said softly, smiling. Cas squeezed his hand.

Margaret was close by, under an oak tree, resting peacefully, how she loved to spend her mornings in the library with Cas.

“Margaret, I have watched the Earth for eons, yet you were my mentor. I am grateful that I got the opportunity to spend my days with you, surrounded by stories. You always made me feel accepted and heard. I will forever cherish our time together,” Cas smiled at the ground. 

Elizabeth was directly under the sun. Staying warm even in the crisp November. 

“Elizabeth, you made the best damn pie I’ve ever had. Henry sure is one lucky fella. When I think of the love that I want to have with Cas, I think of the two of you. He misses you more than you’ll ever know.” Dean grinned, tears falling as he laid down the final bouquet. Cas turned his face into the sun, hiding the tears that stemmed from Dean’s words. 

*****

The Colt Lightning Counter was pretty empty when they stepped inside, and it still looked exactly the same as they’d left it. It took only a few seconds to pinpoint her. A spitting image of her mother. 

“Howdy, fellas. I’m Margie; can I get you somethin’ to drink?” She smiled from the bar.

“I think I’ll have a, uh…” Dean smiled. “I’ll have a white russian.” He thought back to his first shift behind that counter, fucking up a white russian, he and Jenna laughing while they split it. 

“I’ll just have water; thank you,” Cas smiled.

“Comin’ right up.”

The two didn’t stay long. Dean knew if he stayed to chat, he’d start crying and tell Margie how much he missed her mom. Best not to freak the poor girl out. But it was nice, comforting, to see the old place. The place where ‘they’ started. The place where Dean got Cas drunk far too many times to count. Where he did shots with Jenna after closing. Where she threw towels at them when they got too mushy. Their home. 

*****

Dean and Cas made it back to Lebanon early the next afternoon. They sat in the car, silent, for a few moments. 

“Ya know, Cas, I’m really happy we touched that damn pocket watch.”

“So am I, Dean.” Cas leaned across the seat to cup Dean’s cheek, and pull him in for a grounding kiss. Their lips moved together fluidly, slow and sure. 

The only evidence of their trip to the past being an almost weathered-away ‘ _ D+C’ _ carved into the brick, surrounding the front door of the bunker. 


End file.
